The Changeability of Dreams
by A Hopeful One
Summary: Sybill Trelawney is attacked during summer, and Dumbledore calls in a favor from Japan. Harry is slightly more affected by Voldemort's return. How will this change the story we all know? Features Maribel as Divination Professor, Renko as her assistant, and a more logical, but also more traumatised, Harry. AU for Touhou. 5th Year Canon Divergence for HP.
1. Sleepness Night of the Western Country

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

Note: Chapter one begins from _The Order of the Phoenix_, when Harry gets on the carriages. Deviations from canon will happen slowly.

* * *

_"Your karmic burden's quite heavy, you know?"_

_..._

_"One day, you will reach the point where you become me."_

* * *

**Chapter 01 – Sleepless Night of the Western Country **

"You're not going mad or anything, Harry. I can see them too."

"You can?" Harry, almost desperately, turned towards Luna. For some reason, the words came out a bit more strangled than he thought it would, as he pleaded for _something_ he could not quite fully understand.

Was it the need to be believed? To be told, for once, that he wasn't a raving lunatic, like the rest of the world seemed to think?

Luna must have seen this, as her silvery eyes seemed to soften slightly. "Yes. I've been able to see them since my first day here. Gentlemen first?" She gestured towards the carriage.

Harry gratefully climbed in.

As the carriage started moving, Luna spoke up. "They're called Threstals-"

"What?" interrupted Ron. "You're not saying that they're actually _real?_"

"—and they can only be seen by those who have seen death," Luna continued, but in a slightly less serene tone. "They're covered in NEWT-level Care of Magical Creatures, you know."

Ron shut up, and Hermione, who had seemingly been waiting for a chance to jump in, sat back in her seat with a calculating expression.

Harry relaxed, even as images of green light and a falling body surfaced. "Thanks, Luna."

"Anyway," Hermione powered through, "Did anyone notice that Grubbly-Plank is back?"

"But Hagrid can't have left, right?" Ginny piped up.

"And Trelawney was attacked during the summer, so there'll probably be a new Divination teacher as well," Neville added.

Everyone, except Harry, nodded. Harry, on the other hand, swung his head around and stared at each person in turn. "What!?"

"…yeah, sorry Harry." Ron spoke. "We forgot you've been a bit out of the loop. Plus there was your hearing and all…"

Harry felt his hands clench into fists as he felt the small pool of anger within him start to bubble. "So, there's was something that was this important, and none of you saw fit to tell me?" His voice rose to a dangerous level.

Ron and Hermione, remembering Harry's outburst, shared a worrying glance, but it was Hermione who spoke.

"We're sorry, Harry. We really forgot. And you know there's been a lot going on!" Hermione spoke placatingly.

"YOU-" Harry made to stand, but he felt a hand on his shoulder, and traced it up the arm to Neville Longbottom's concerned expression.

"You all right there?"

With those words, Harry felt suddenly drained, and sat back down.

_Luna or Neville don't know about Grimmauld Place. And it's not their fault, too._

"Yeah, sorry." He apologized.

"No worries." Neville said. "It's also wasn't anything big; all it said in the _Prophet_ was that Trelawney was assaulted by someone while shopping in Hogsmeade."

The carriage fell silent, and stayed mostly silent, as it continued on its journey to Hogwarts.

At the Great Hall Luna gave a last smile to Harry and drifted away to the Ravenclaws; Ginny was called over by some forth-years, which left the rest to find space at the end of the Gryffindor table.

With a glance a the staff, Harry noted the lack of Hagrid, as well as the presence of several new faces. With a sinking feeling, he spotted a toad-faced woman in a distinctive pink cardigan – Umbridge was here.

_Undersecretary to the Minster, was it? And a member of that…._ Harry did not know the phrase "kangaroo court", but he was certain her presence meant nothing but bad news.

There were two others, though. The first was a brown-haired woman with a black shawl, white blouse, and a short red tie, who was chatting amiably with the Astronomy Professor. On her head was not a pointed witch's hat, but a rounded bowler hat with a white bow.

Sitting next to her was another woman who also looked to be in her twenties, who was staring into space somewhat vacantly. A peculiar white bonnet with a red ribbon sat on a head of golden hair. Her simple purple dress matched Dumbledore's own strange gaudy robes, but seemed to look natural on her all the same.

A Sorting, a delicious feast, and half a speech later, it was time for the announcement of staffing changes, and Harry sat slightly more upright.

"There will be a few changes in staffing this year, as you can somewhat tell from the new faces at our table," Dumbledore spoke with some levity. "First, we are pleased to welcome back Professor Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons. Next," he gestured at Umbridge, "Professor Dolores Umbridge, kindly appointed by the Ministry of Magic, will be taking Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Dumbledore took an almost indiscernible pause before continuing, as if to let the words sink in.

"Lastly, we are pleased to welcome Professor Merrybell-" he stopped, as the purple-dressed lady whispered something in his ear, "sorry, Professor _Marribel _Hearn and her associate, Renko Usami, who are visiting Hogwarts for the year. Professor Hearn will be taking over Divination from Professor Trelawney, who is currently taking time off for recuperation." The lady in purple gave a small wave and a smile to polite and warm applause.

"She will be assisted by Assistant Professor Usami, who, to my understanding, also has a background in Astronomy. You may feel free to ask her any questions." The brown-haired woman took a short bow, again to more applause.

"Guess Divination this year's going to be more interesting," Ron nudged Harry.

"Anything's better than some hag predicting my death every lesson," Harry replied glumly. _Finally, something to look forward to._

Dumbledore's speech was, somewhat predictably, interrupted by Umbridge, who proceeded to go on a spiel of what Vernon Dursley would have called "bureaucratic codswallop" in good company, and "fucking bullshit" in less polite circumstances.

_Not that I would forget how Petunia beat me with a frying pan for repeating that phrase_, Harry mused.

There was a great deal of noise, which meant that the school had been dismissed. Harry shot a side glance to Hermione, who looked to stand up. At the very least, her stormy expression meant that she, too, had understood that the Ministry was, apart from censoring all news of Voldemort's return, going to interfere at Hogwarts.

With a sigh Harry stood to leave, watching as his two best friends shepherded the first-years back to the common room. He did not miss the pointed stares and the whispers coming from half, or more, of the school's population, nor did he miss the frightened looks some of the younger students seemed to be giving him.

It was too much. Stalking into a hidden shortcut, he headed straight for the Gryffindor rooms, at a pace that would have scared off a casual onlooker.

He should have seen this coming, Harry thought. Should have known how it would have looked to a normal person, coming back with a dead body and a Portkey.

_Hell, some people probably thought that I killed him to win or something._ _And now we know Voldemort's back, and people would just rather believe that I'm a liar, than to even consider the slightest thought that they might be in danger– _

And he was supposed to fight Voldemort again, he realized. Fight Voldemort again and win, just like in the past.

_These are the people that I'm supposed to be defending?_

With a small jolt of anger that broke his mounting anger, Harry realized he didn't know, really know, what happened fourteen years ago.

_How could a baby have defeated a Dark Lord?_

He needed to know more, he realized. Know more, and – the thought of last year's spell practice for the Third Task came to mind – and train more.

He _also_ suddenly realized that he was right in front of the Fat Lady _without_ the password to the common room, and he once again wanted to whip out his wand and blast several craters into the castle walls.

However, a jovial voice sounded from down the corridor. It was Neville.

"Hey, Harry! I think I can remember the password for once!" He jogged up to the portrait. "_Mimbulus nimbletonia!"_

With a grateful nod, Harry and Neville stepped into the warmth of the common room, and went for the dormitories.

Hopefully, Harry thought, he would get a good night's rest tonight, before having to deal with the several new challenges that he would have to face tomorrow.

* * *

_And we all know how_ that's _going to work out._

_Review please!_


	2. Welcome to the Divination Tour

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

Note: The Japanese honorific "-san" is a neutral title similar to the English "Mr" or "Mrs". Except not really. There isn't really a direct translation for these kinds of things.

* * *

**Chapter 02 – Welcome to the Divination Tour**

Harry awoke to pre-daybreak darkness with sweat on his brow and a silent scream lodged in his throat.

_Graveyard – green light – falling body – white masks – _

With a great effort, he forced himself to look downwards at his hands, which were trembling slightly. He then raised a palm to head level, on which he slapped himself in the face.

_Ow._

A bit harder than he would have liked, but the slap did its job. Having designated sleep as a lost cause, Harry now decided to head down to the Common Room.

_Maybe I'll try to read ahead for once._

Sighing to himself amidst the quiet snoring of his roommates, Harry drew open the curtains of his four-poster bed. He was about to grab Slinkhard's _Defensive Magical Theory_ when he noticed, somewhat dimly, that he wasn't the only one up and about.

"Neville?" he whispered.

The aforementioned boy jumped quietly and turned, a slightly guilty expression on his face. "Harry? What are you doing up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep." Harry waved a dismissive hand. "What about you?"

Neville looked around at the rows of beds. Eventually, he relented. "Why don't we go downstairs and talk?"

A tiptoed trip down the stairs later, the two boys were sitting by the embers of the fireplace.

Neville spoke first, somewhat reluctantly. "I've been training."

"Training?"

"Yeah, physical exercise. Gran's been nagging at me all summer. Told me straight up that now that You-know-who's back, we all need to start getting prepared. All but dragged up one of Dad's old Auror training manuals and forced me to follow the routines." Neville rubbed the back of his head, somewhat sheepishly.

It was then that Harry noticed Neville's attire: a plain shirt and shorts, with Muggle trainers.

"And you thought that you'd continue after you'd come back to Hogwarts, huh?" Harry stared off into space.

Neville was about to open his mouth when Harry spoke again. "It's a good idea. Hell, I would join you, but I've never done this before. And I don't have any clothes."

Neville stood. "I'll just lend you a spare set, then."

Jogging along the coast of Hogwarts' lake as the sun slowly rose was, Harry mused, certainly a novel experience. Staring upwards into the rose-tinted sky, Harry kept pace with a steady Neville. For a few blissful minutes, even as his legs began to ache, he could almost believe that nothing had happened a few minutes ago; that he hadn't just been woken up by nightmares that had been plaguing him ever since the end of the Third Task.

"So," Harry panted, "you…you gonna do this…this…every morning?"

"Yep," Neville replied with more pep than anyone at that level of physical exertion had any right to have. "Or at least, every other day."

They rounded a bend, and Neville gradually slowed to a stop, with Harry gasping for air behind. Only a few more seconds elapsed before Neville dropped to the ground.

In between several routines of various calisthenics, Harry learnt a bit more about the rest of Wizarding Britain in the wake of Voldemort's silent return.

"Gran believes you, of course. Always said that things were too good to be true, back then. Especially since Mum and Dad…well…" Neville trailed off. He was sitting cross-legged, as Harry struggled to finish the latest set of push-ups.

With a jolt, Harry realized he knew basically nothing about Neville's parents. But a quick look at Neville's sombre expression, and even he knew better than to ask. At least, at the moment.

He decided to change the topic.

"So, where did you say you got this routine from again?"

"An Auror training manual. An _old_ one, since the standards have been dropping," at this, Neville wrinkled his nose in an imitation of his grandmother, "over the years. Amelia Bones came around for tea a couple of times, and she's always complaining how getting more funding from Fudge is like pulling hens' teeth."

Harry recalled a stern, monocled witch from his trial. _The head of Magical Law Enforcement, huh?_

"So, Harry. I'm not sure how to say this, but," Neville paused, "are you sure you're fine?"

Flat on his back and sore from exhaustion, Harry couldn't even muster enough energy to sit upright with a squawk. Instead, he simply stared into the sky.

"I know we aren't, um, the closest of friends," he continued, "but even I can see that you're…troubled."

"Yeah?" Harry retorted, although only somewhat weakly. The sun was slowly starting to rise. "You think?"

Neville held up his hands. "Hey, I'm only trying to help. Besides, it's quite obvious that you fought with Ron and Hermione over the summer. And you have this weary air about you, and dark circles under your eyes-"

"What?" Harry shot upright for real this time, and started gingerly feeling his face.

_Is it really that obvious? Is that also why people have been giving me these weird looks?_

"Really, it's the _dark circles_ that have you all concerned? I didn't know the Boy Who Lived was that much of a Lockhart," Neville joked.

At the mention of his title, Harry let his head fall back onto the ground with a slump. "Don't even compare me with bloody Lockhart." He sighed again. "Guess there's no point trying to hide it if you've already guessed. Yeah, I've been having trouble sleeping. You bloody happy now? You want a prize, _mate_?" His voice started to rise.

There was a moment of silence, punctuated only by the soft splashes of the Giant Squid echoing from the lake.

"Well, if anything, I heard exercise helps you sleep better at night," Neville said awkwardly, from somewhere off to the side.

_Hey Harry, note to self: maybe try _not _being an ass towards people who are trying to help_.

"Right." With his hands outstretched to his sides, Harry looked like a giant "T" from above. "Hey, listen. I'm sorry I snapped at you like that, when you were trying to help. If you don't mind, I'd actually like to do this again." He attempted to sit up, and winced at the soreness of his legs.

"No worries. I think everyone has their bad days sometimes."

"Wow, when did you get so wise?"

"Around the same time I outran Harry Potter, seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

"Shut up."

The boys went back to the castle in significantly higher spirits.

_Yeah, if I could just keep my good mood for more than two minutes, that'll be great, thank you._

"Seamus reckons you're lying about You-Know-Who," Ron announced, as he plopped down besides Harry at breakfast.

"Does he now?" Harry shot back.

"Yeah, heard him talking with Dean this morning. Says he almost didn't come back because his mum wouldn't let him, or something."

"Lavender's been saying similar things, too." A new voice joined them.

"Hello, Hermione," Harry replied wearily. "I'm certainly glad that everyone spent last night arguing about whether I'm an attention-seeking liar or not."

"Don't shoot the messenger," Hermione replied evenly. "I defended you, by the way. Still, it's almost worrying how quickly everyone is to jump at everyone else. You'd think they'd take both Dumbledore's _and_ the Sorting Hat's warnings more seriously."

"Which is?" Ron spoke.

"In simple words, basically to stand united against the coming threat," Hermione spoke, matter-of-factly.

"Well, you aren't going to catch me getting friendly with the Slytherins anytime soon," retorted Ron. "Who knows how many of them actually _support_-"

"Oh, knock it off, Ron," Harry spoke, somewhat wearily. "Pass me the bacon, would you."

"Oi, aren't you supposed to be on my side?" Ron said.

"I can't really muster a damn to care when half the school thinks I'm deluded."

"Well," Ron spoke, then decided to change tack "Actually, where were you this morning?"

"Exercising with Neville," Harry replied simply. _At least he tells me what the hell is going on without me needing to beg._

"Exercising? You're bonkers to wake up that early to suffer, mate." Ron scoffed.

"Say what you like. I'll be going." Harry stood up and left, while Hermione looked worriedly after him.

* * *

With some trepidation, Harry made his way to the fifth floor. History of Magic had been the usual brand of dullness, and Snape his usual brand of unpleasantness, and so Harry was ready for whatever could come next. However, as he neared the new Divination classroom, he could hear a pair of voices, and he peered in to see the new teachers in animated conversation.

"—knows what _Yakumo-san_ was thinking, sending me here," the blonde was complaining grumpily.

_Hmm, apparently the new teacher has something out for this _Yakumo-san.

"Oh cheer up, Merry. Think of it as a holiday," the brunette was slightly more upbeat. "Besides, you always said you wanted to visit Stonehenge."

At this point Harry knocked on the door, slightly awkwardly. "Is this the new Divination classroom?" He took a step back as two glances were directed at him.

"Yes, do come in," said the blonde in an airy voice. "Take a seat anywhere."

The tables and chairs had been removed, and soft mats now covered the floor instead. The windows had been opened, and soft sunlight shone into the room, giving it a tranquil atmosphere.

Feeling slightly out of sync, Harry found a spot off to the side, and sat down cross-legged as he watched the classroom slowly fill up. With annoyance, he noticed that some people were still shooting him fearful looks.

As the clock began to chime, the chattering of the students died down, and the blonde in the purple dress began to speak.

"Good morning, and welcome to Divination." A soft but clear voice echoed through the balcony, and several heads (and backs of those who had been lying down) immediately shot up. "As mentioned, my name is Maribel Hearn, though you may call me Professor Merry if you so wish. Joining us will be my friend and associate, Renko Usami, who will be my teaching assistant for the term." The brunette, who had been standing off to the side, gave a short wave.

"Now," Maribel continued, "I must warn you that this class will be very different from what you are used to. Contrary to what you have been taught, Divination is not just about seeing the future. In fact, rarely are visions of the future precise enough to be of much use."

Both Lavender and Parvati looked slightly put out.

"Rather, it is seeing clearly the present, knowing what is in front of you at this very moment, that will be more important." Maribel's gaze seemed to rest on Harry for the briefest of moments, before she moved on.

"Can anyone here tell me what the root word of 'Divination' is?" She peered around the room; no hands were upraised, but all were staring at her in rapt attention. "No one?"

_I bet if Hermione was still here, she'd have her hand raised in a heartbeat,_ thought Harry wryly.

Maribel sighed. "Well, the root of Divination is to _divine_. To gain knowledge. To attain information, and to know what one previously was ignorant of. Any magic that involves such a thing falls under the purview of 'Divination'. Needless to say, Divination intersects many other fields of magic, like Charms, Arithmancy, and Astronomy." At the last word, Maribel nodded and gave a small smile to Renko.

"During this year, you will be learning many things. Of course, we shall continue with the usual trappings related to predicting the future, such as dream interpretation and tarot-card reading. We will also be covering search and sensory magic, though I can't promise you that you'll be able to see through walls." At this, she paused and gave a tinkling laugh. "Also, if time permits, we shall also cover the very basics of the mind magics of Occlumency and Legilimency. However, most importantly, I hope to impart onto you a degree of common sense and an inquisitive mind, which will serve you more than just for this class alone."

"Now, are there any questions?"

It was, as Harry reflected, Divination as he had never experience it before. They were all instructed to sit cross-legged and to meditate, to "focus on your own mind and your own magics within you."

"To learn how to be in touch with one's own magic," Professor Merry's voice rang with a calm and ethereal quality, "is a basic skill that will improve one's spellcasting in any field."

Towards the end of the class they were all taught _Tempus_, the basic Time-Telling charm that could be performed with a single flick.

"Notice how your magic is feels as you perform the charm. Remember this the next time you need to cast another spell." Merry continued.

All too soon, the bell rang. "Homework: a single paragraph on your class experience today. Simply reflect on your sensations of casting a spell. Additionally, please begin recording your dreams every night from here on out, since we will be beginning the topic of dream interpretation soon. Class dismissed!"

There was a cacophony of groans as the students stood up and stretched. Harry himself was slightly stiff from sitting in the same position from an hour. He had made it to the door when the Professor's voice sounded quietly from behind him, as if she had been standing right next to his shoulder.

"Mr Potter, could I have a short word?"

* * *

_Oh my, I wonder what Merry has to say?_

_Review please!_


	3. Tomorrow Will Be Special

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

Assume that everything not mentioned goes roughly the same as in canon. But only roughly.

* * *

**Chapter 03 – Tomorrow Will Be Special, Yesterday Was Not**

"Mr Potter, could I have a short word?"

Harry, who was almost to the door, stumbled slightly, while Ron looked at him weirdly.

"Go on, Ron, I'll catch up." He nodded at Ron, who was looking from Harry to the Professor uncertainly. After a he moments, he left.

_This better not be another case of Trelawney predicting my death_, Harry thought to himself cynically. Outwardly, though, he responded calmly.

"Yes, Professor Hearn?"

The professor in question put a hand to her forehead. "Hearing that makes me feel too old…anyway, sorry. You'll be heading to Professor Umbridge's class next, right?"

At Harry's hesitant nod, Merry continued, staring into space. "I can see it as it is written. Professor Umbridge will anger you. She will pick at you like a relentless cat, tear into the wounds of your past, and make light of Cedric Diggory's death. She will be deliberately blind to the tides of darkness rising, and she will attempt to spread this blindness, out of her own fear and malice. It will not just be you that will be enraged, but so will others as well."

Harry's eyes grew wider and wider. _This…this isn't another prediction, is it?_

"But throughout all of this, Harry Potter, you need to remember: emotions can be controlled." Merry turned, and fixed her gaze on Harry. "You can always choose how to react. Will you charge right forward, with a head full of fury, or will you wait and see, to strike better later? I look forward to finding out.

Now, I am afraid I need to send you on your way." She turned to Renko, who handed her a slip of paper, which was then handed to Harry after a brief gaze. "A pass to excuse your lateness. Go on, now."

Harry, still gobsmacked, numbly took the paper and left.

After a confused Harry had departed, Merry turned to Renko. "So, how did I do?"

"80 out of 100, I think. You were getting a bit too direct in the last part."

They held each other's serious expressions for a moment, before both of them burst out laughing.

"It really reminds me of those days where we were overly dramatic about everything," smiled Renko.

"What do you mean 'those days"? Aren't we still like that?" Merry smiled back. "Anyway, I think it was okay. Everyone's already used to the idea of a batty Divination Professor, anyway."

"Don't lump me in with you." Renko grumbled, but good-naturedly. "Do you think he'll realise that everything you said could have been a logical deduction, given what we know about the situation?"

"If he hasn't realised after a month in our class, I'll tell him."

* * *

Harry was about to mull over the Divination Professor's words when he realized he was probably going to be late.

_Run there first, think later!_

Out of breath, he arrived at the Defence classroom, where a lady dressed in a distinctly pink cardigan was waiting for him.

"Late on your first day, Mr Potter? 20 points from-"

"I have a note from the Divination Professor." Harry interrupted before he could lose house points, and passed over the folded note.

"Hmm, hmm." Umbridge read over the note, and then examined him, like a toad eying a juicy fly. "Well then, get to your seat, and let's make that five points for tardiness instead."

There was a flash of anger within Harry, but, having no good retort in mind, he proceeded to his seat. Already, he could hear some whispers starting.

When the class started, and they were told to put their wands away, Harry resigned himself to the worst. As in turns out, _Defensive Magical Theory_ was horribly boring, and written in the kind of overly pompous and self-important language that made his attention slide off the page entirely. Giving it up as a bad job, Harry instead decided, simply, to just think.

It was clear that he needed to get better – to get good enough to defeat Voldemort, or at least well enough to survive. _Strong enough, at least, so I don't need to suffer these bloody nightmares every night!_ he mused. Unfortunately, with how Defence was going, it seemed that the need to find an alternative method had shot up. Drastically.

Also, he continued to muse, Professor Hearn's prediction had already somewhat began to come true. Umbridge had immediately and unfairly started docking points the moment he entered. _I guess if she's as bad as Snape, then I'll have saw it coming_, he thought grimly to himself. _But what was that she mentioned about charging forward and waiting and seeing?_

Harry was snapped out of his reverie by Professor Umbridge's voice. "Did you want to ask about something in the chapter, dear?"

He looked up and around. Apparently, half the class had been staring at Hermione raising her hand silently for a few minutes now.

"No, but-"

"Well, we're reading now," Umbridge cut across Hermione, baring her small, pointed teeth. "If you have any other queries, we can deal with them at the end of class."

"It's about your course aims, Professor," Hermione responded. "There's nothing up there about actually using defensive spells."

A short silence ensued as the majority of the class looked again at the blackboard. Harry, however, sighed internally.

_I don't think you'll be able to reason with her, Hermione._

"And your name is, young lady?"

"Hermione Granger," stated Hermione flatly.

"Well, Miss Granger," Umbridge gave a tittering laugh, "I can't imagine any situation arising during lessons that will require to defend yourself. Unless you're expecting to be attacked?"

"We're not using magic at all?" Ron exclaimed loudly.

Turning to Ron, Umbridge spoke. "Students should raise their hands if they wish to be given a chance to speak, Mr-?"

"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air. Umbridge's smile continued to widen as she turned her back on him.

_Yeah, Ron, I don't think that'll work, too._

Harry watched quietly as more hands began to raise in outrage, as more and more of his classmates voiced their concerns about not actually being able to practice and perform actual magic in class. He felt himself becoming more angry, but this time, it felt as if he was watching, tiredly, from far away.

Somehow, the Divination Professor's words were echoing, again, in his mind. _Charge forward, or wait and see_.

And Harry had enough of charging forward – into gauntlets of traps, into a secret chamber with giant basilisks, and into swarms of Dementors.

So, when Umbridge asked "Who do you imagine wants to attack schoolchildren like yourselves?", Harry, from a slouched position on his desk…

…snapped out a scathing reply.

"Hmm, maybe _LORD VOLDEMORT, the recently resurrected dark wizard?" _

Apparently, Harry still couldn't resist.

At the sudden loud mention of the dark lord's name, there were a handful of gasps, and a few hastily muffled screams. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Neville jump up, as if he was given an electric shock. Umbridge, on the other hand, was wearing an expression of odd satisfaction.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter."

The class had gone silent and still, every single eye now resting on either Harry or Umbridge.

"Now, let me make it clear. You have been told that a certain dark wizard has returned from the dead. _This is a lie_."

"Of course it's a lie," Harry shot out, to a sea of mixed expressions. "After all," he continued, in a slightly louder voice, "you can't come back from the dead if you've never died, after all."

This time, Harry head a few chuckles, which were also quickly muffled. He was angry, yes, but it no longer ran hot; it was cold and biting and bitter, a dark, corrosive force that ate at his soul. Somehow, though, everything seemed to be becoming clearer.

"Detention, Mr Potter!" Umbridge shouted, almost triumphantly. "Five o'clock tomorrow evening, at my office! The Ministry of Magic–"

"The Ministry of Magic probably won't admit that Cedric Diggory was murdered, and probably tried to play it off as an accident." Harry spoke over Umbridge, but did not shout. "You can go ahead and say what you want, but I saw what I saw."

All this was said while Harry remained in his seat, almost calmly. He noticed that some of his classmates were visibly eagerly listening, but it didn't matter: he had already said his piece, and he wasn't about to continue speaking to those who would doubt him anyway.

Tuning out the rest of Umbridge's simpering, he returned his eyes to _Defensive Magical Theory_, whereupon he had one more flash of inspiration.

It was not until the bell rang for lunch, and Harry was at the door, did he say one last line.

"Oh, and if anyone has a Penseive and wants to know, I can even _show you the memory itself!_"

With an almost triumphant air, he ran off towards the Great Hall before Umbridge could give him another detention.

* * *

It was at lunch where Harry bumped into Angelina Johnson, whereupon he again prepared for his mood to go sour.

"Hi, Angelina."

"Hello. Had a good summer?" Without stopping, she continued. "Listen, I've been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain."

"Nice one," Harry grinned at her, but his smile quickly dropped. "Sorry to ruin the mood, but I have something serious I need to tell you."

"What's up? This better not be a confession or something." Angelina joked.

"I'm resigning from the team."

"Pull the other one, it's got bells on," Angelina said, but trailed off when she saw Harry's somber expression. "Wait, you're serious."

"Yeah, I am." For a moment, Harry considered giving a reason, but he found none that he thought Angelina would accept.

After a moment of silence, Angelina said "well?"

"Well, what?"

"You're not even going to say why?"

The words _I don't have to bloody justify myself to you_ fought its way to the tip of Harry's tongue, along with _I don't think I can cope, with all the other bullshit that's been going on_. Both were silenced, in favour of a plausible half-lie that Harry hoped would just get Angelina to _go away_.

"Well…" he trailed off. "You've heard about the new Defence Professor?"

"No, I haven't taken any of her classes yet," Angelina frowned. "Why?"

"She has it out for me," Harry ground out. The pieces came together in his mind as he spoke. "Sooner or later, she'll come up with something other than points or detentions, and she'll probably target the team if I'm on it. And she's from the Ministry, which probably means going to another teacher won't help."

"Besides," he continued, "do you really want to be around me after hearing what the _Prophet's_ been saying all summer?"

He did not miss the momentary flash of…guilt that appeared on Angelina's face.

"Did I hear that right? Harry's leaving?" Alicia Spinnet, Angelina's year-mate and fellow Chaser, spoke up from where had just came.

"Yeah, I'm resigning." Harry said, matter-of-factly.

Alicia looked from her friend to Harry, and back again. "Is this about…you know…" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "_you know_?"

"Somewhat, yes." Harry said again. _You don't know how close you've gotten_, he thought.

"Well, if you put it that way…" Angelina looked conflicted. "I'll look for a replacement Seeker. But you're still on as the reserve, you hear? Even if you don't come for practice. And I'm going to call you in if I think we need it." She put her head in her hands. "This is going to be tough."

"Yeah, I got it. Thanks, Angelina. Oh, and if you could do me a favour, don't…don't put my name in it. Just say you're looking for a Seeker."

"Yeah, yeah. Wouldn't want your best mate to go ballistic, after all." She got up. "See you around, Potter." With her back turned, she gave a short, dismissive wave.

_She probably means Ron. Huh, you're right. He's probably going to flip._

This left Alicia, who surreptitiously looked around before she spoke. "Harry…"

"What?" Harry bit out, a bit more harshly than he intended. "Sorry. What?"

Alicia looked around a bit more. "We've been teammates for four years, now. If you ever need anyone to talk to, well…all of us care, alright?" She looked again at her watch. "Oh no, I'm going to be late! See you around!"

With her meal half-finished, she dashed to the doors, hurrying after Angelina.

_Thanks, Alicia. That actually means a lot. More than you know._

With that out of the way, Harry finished his meal and headed towards the library, taking care to avoid other people as much as possible.

_Maybe I should start wearing the Cloak around everywhere._

In any case, his plan was relatively simple: do his homework, read ahead, and start researching Secrecy Charms. And maybe Notice-Me-Not Charms as well. If he was going to be practicing magic in an unused classroom after hours, he wasn't going to be bloody disturbed.

A wave of nostalgia hit him, and he thought back to the previous year, where he somehow mastered the Summoning Charm in the three days before the First Task.

Except this time, there was no Hermione there to guide him. He did not think that Hermione would be there to guide him, ever again. He was going to have to guide himself, from here on out. Ron and Hermione…the people he thought would always have his back…had let him down, at the time when he had needed them the most.

They had left him to suffer, to deal with his nightmares alone, in ignorance and silence. And the Order…thought he was too young, and had almost not told him anything at all.

What was it that Lupin had said? Of having dangers involved of which they had no idea?

Stone. Basilisk. Dementors. A dragon. Merpeople.

A graveyard. Voldemort himself.

Harry took a great, shuddering breath, and panic rose to his throat. _They have no idea. _They _had no idea._

With a great mental effort, he reached out a steadying hand to the wall, he forced himself to go through the one thing he thought might help: the meditation exercise they had learnt only that morning. With quick, hitching breaths, he reached within, reached out to his magic, and drew his wand with a shaking hand.

"T-_tempus_," he murmured, and the magic came, a calming song and a small rush of power. In blazing, bright blue numerals, the time popped up, and he winced slightly at the sudden brightness. Almost one o'clock, he noted.

It was only the first day back, and yet the morning felt so long ago.

With a fresh note of determination in his step, he continued his journey to the library.

Today would be the first day, he thought, of practicing to fight something much, much more dangerous than an overgrown, fire-breathing lizard.

* * *

__Sorry for the wait. _Harry isn't exactly in a good mental space right now, is he?_

_Review please!_


	4. Strange Bird, Mysterious Cat

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

Within the stories of ZUN's Music CDs, the time period in which Maribel and Renko exist is implied to be in the near future, and not the present day. This has, of course, been changed.

* * *

**Chapter 04 – Strange Bird of the Moon, Illusion of the Mysterious Cat**

Harry found himself standing in an antechamber, looking at the attractive curves of Fleur Delacour…she seemed to be saying something, something…

"But e' is too young! E' is just a little boy!"

He reached for his wand and stepped forward…perhaps he would show her how _young_ he really was…a spell rose to his lips…

And Fleur became Professor Trelawney, and they were seated at Divination, with a crystal ball in front of her…

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him…born as the seventh month dies.."

Harry looked around, and they were seated in an endless corridor, where shelves of crystal balls reached towards the ceiling…he reached for the orb in front of him, for the one that was lying around, somewhere on one of these shelves…

And the form of Trelawney became Voldemort, no, _Tom Riddle_, as he had appeared down in the Chamber of Secrets.

"We are not so different, you and I…even you must have noticed…the strange similarities…"

_No_, Harry shouted back, _I'm nothing like you!_ He shouted back in defiance, but his voice was silent, against the Voldemort in the graveyard…

"Bow to death, Harry..."

_No! I REFUSE!_

"I refuse!" Harry shouted, only to find himself back in the Gryffindor dorms, half-upright and ready to curse the living daylights out of the curtains of his four-poster bed.

_Shite, I did it again._

A few moments later, he slumped back down on his pillow and stared into the depths of the ceiling.

_What the hell was that? _He tried to think about what he had seen, but it felt like grabbing smoke.

Rubbing at his aching scar, he automatically reached over to his alarm clock, only to find that his hand was, somehow, already gripping his wand.

_To hell with it_. Out loud, he muttered "_Tempus_", and the time again appeared, in fainter numbers. Unsurprisingly, it appeared to be _too bloody early,_ as the saying went.

Not that it wasn't already becoming something of a familiar routine. Grabbing a roll of parchment, Harry set out to work on the first entry of his dream diary.

_Might as well, right? _

Another moment of consideration, and he changed into his set of exercise clothes, as well.

Down in the common room, Harry made to begin writing, and stopped when he realized he had nothing to write. Images seemed to shift as he fought to remember, and the words seemed to stop, held back by some unknown force at the tip of his quill.

_Slowly, slowly,_ he told himself. _Try to remember…_

An attractive blonde witch came to mind, but the name…Beauxbatons? On the parchment, he wrote "Triwizard champion", and he gradually started to remember.

_Too young_, he wrote. _Trelawney, endless corridor, high shelves, crystal balls._ He stopped, then wrote again.

_Tom Riddle. Similarity._ A few more words appeared on the page, before he realized that this was not very likely going to be accepted as a real piece of homework.

Besides, did he really want the rest of the class to think he was a nutter? Or more of a nutter, then he was already thought of?

He sighed and glared at the parchment. Trelawney had been saying something, but what?

_Dark Lord…_Harry growled as the words appeared. Maybe he should just ask Professor Hearn directly. She had given him that warning, after all, and seemed much more…well, sane, than his previous Divination Professor had been.

And there was the matter of how, last year, he had dreamt of what Voldemort had been doing as well.

"Bollocks," he said out loud, to the empty Common Room.

"Harry?" At the sound of his name, Harry turned and pointed his wand to a surprised Neville, who raised his hands in supplication. "Merlin's pants, Harry."

"Sorry," Harry lowered his wand. "Shall we go?" he said abruptly.

"Yeah, lets."

"Though I should probably put away my stuff first." Harry stood and gave a final glare at the paper, before rolling it up and heading upstairs.

~~~[q]~~~

"I'm actually surprised you showed, to be honest," Neville quipped. "I thought you would be laying in bed with muscle aches all day, yesterday being the first time you exercised that hard and all."

"To be honest, I didn't even notice," Harry said.

They were once again at the edge of the Black Lake, winding down their morning routine to the rising of the sun.

"I guess you heal faster than most, then," Neville replied. "The first time I tried this, I was dying in bed the morning after."

Harry stifled a laugh, imagining a rounder Neville groaning in his bed.

"It's less funny if you were being hit with Stinging Hexes while being told to get out of bed. Anyway," Neville soldiered on, "Umbridge."

"What about it?" Harry replied lazily. "I said what I wanted to say, and that'll be the end of it. If people want to think I'm a liar, then so be it. I don't care any longer."

Neville was now nursing a small, worried frown on his face, but decided not to press into undoubtedly what would be a can of worms. Instead, he remarked, "And Quidditch?"

At the sound of the Q-word, Harry sighed, knowing it was just a matter of time before someone would bring it up. Deciding to be straight with Neville, he got to the point.

"Voldemort's back," he simply said. "Trelawney was attacked from right under Dumbledore's nose in Hogsmeade." He looked right at Neville, and stared him down. "There's no time to play around any more."

Neville met his gaze with equal measure. "That's not how the others will see it, though. Especially Ron – he's always been a fanatic."

"Too bloody bad," Harry replied, a tinge of venom in his voice. Not noticing Neville recoil slightly, he continued in a more level tone. "There's something I realized, especially after last year with the whole Triwizard fiasco. The Gryffindors were cheering when my name came out of that Cup, but they renounced me right after I said I didn't enter myself. People are idiots."

"Yeah, but…" Neville trailed off. "You mind if I say something, Harry?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"People don't exactly know you as a person," said Neville. At Harry's look of indignation, he held up a hand. "I don't mean that whole Boy-Who-Lived business. I mean, you don't exactly hang around much with people other than Ron, Hermione, and maybe the Quidditch team, do you?"

Harry had no reply, at which Neville continued. "And you don't really talk much to people from other Houses, too."

"And you do?"

"I'm in the Gardening Club, Harry," Neville chided. "There's people from all four houses there. Yes, even Slytherins. Malfoy is a git, but those who aren't within his circle aren't that bad, and you'll be surprised at how many people only reluctantly follow him because of his father's prestige."

"Which includes running around in a skull mask?" Harry quipped back. "Alright, I get the point. Bit of a fine time for me to start making friends this year, though."

Neville only nodded back. A few moments of silence passed between the two boys.

"Time to head back, I guess," Neville finally said, giving his arms a final stretch.

Harry was about to agree, when he saw a familiar figure traipsing into the Forbidden Forest. "I'll catch up with you later."

"If you say so."

"Oh, and…" Harry continued on a whim, "I have a plan. For DADA, I mean."

Neville raised his eyebrow slightly. "I'll be looking forward to it."

With the other boy now gone, Harry began to make his way towards the Forbidden Forest. If his suspicions were right…

Arriving at a small clearing, he saw a few Thestrals milling about, and a small, blonde, barefooted figure feeding them scraps of meat.

"Hello there, Harry Potter. I was wondering when I would see you again."

Completely nonplussed, the formulated reply that Harry had prepared died a quiet death in his throat. By sheer conversational instinct, he replied. "You were?"

"Yes, I was. When you meet someone, don't you ever wonder about when you'll next see them?"

Harry opened his mouth, and again found that he could say nothing.

Luna continued speaking in the same airy tone. "Then again, I'm not quite sure you're Harry Potter. Maybe just an oddly-shaped Thestral? You look as if you're waiting to be fed, after all."

Harry shut his mouth, which he realized had been half-open. Finally, he remembered what he had came here to say.

"No, I'm definitely Harry. And you're Luna Lovegood, right?"

"I am, and maybe I'm not. Some people don't call me that, even though that's what my parents named me," presumably-Luna said, in the same airy fashion.

Fighting off what he thought was the beginnings of a headache, Harry spoke before the conversation could take any more turns to unexpected dimensions. "Okay, Luna. I just wanted to thank you, you know. For saying that Thestrals are real."

_That was…not exactly how I would have phrased it,_ Harry thought to himself, immediately after the words came out of his mouth.

"Why would you thank me for saying the obvious? Of course they're real, Harry. You can see them right here, can't you?" Luna said, patting the head of one of the nearest aforementioned creatures.

"That's not…I mean…"

"I think what you wanted me thank me for was…" Luna looked off into the brightening sky, then looked back at Harry, "for convincing you that you haven't lost your grip on reality?"

"I…hey, that's actually a good way of putting it." Harry said, both to himself and to Luna.

"_Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_," sang Luna again. The final few scraps of bacon disappeared into a Thestral's mouth. At Harry's curious expression, she elaborated. "That's one of the mottoes of Rowena Ravenclaw, inscribed on her famous diadem."

Dusting off her dress, she made to leave. "I look forward to seeing you again soon, Harry Potter. Also, breakfast is going to end, so you might want to Harry-hurry up to the Great Hall."

As she walked past him, Harry could hear her humming "Harry-hurry", chuckling quietly to herself, before she stopped and turned around again. "Don't worry, Harry. Ravenclaw also said to always accept reality as it is, never as it appears." Giving Harry a last, unexpectedly meaningful look, she left for the castle, still humming to herself.

Now alone in a clearing full of Thestrals, Harry stood for a few moments in utter bamboozlement, before uttering several loud swearwords and running off towards the castle.

~~~[q]~~~

It was only after an extremely gruelling session of Double Charms followed by Double Transfiguration that Ron and Hermione caught up with him.

It was also one of the few things that he had been dreading.

"Harry, what were you thinking?" Ron said first, incredulously. "Quitting Quidditch? Gryffindor's going to be steamrolled!"

Resisting his first impulse to _Stupefy_ his (was it former?) friend right there and then, Harry instead opted to slowly turn around while counting to five silently in his head. In a low voice, he replied.

"Ron. Voldemort is back. Umbridge is breathing down our throats. I have no bloody interest in playing Quidditch right now."

"How the hell can you just say that? What about the Quidditch Cup? And the House Cup? You're just going to abandon us like that?"

Noticing the growing interest of the people around the three of them, Harry finally drew his wand, giving a wave before tracing a small circle above his head.

"_Silencio Circumta._ There's more important things that I need to do, and-"

"Bloody hell, I was going to try out as Keeper, and now I find that you're leaving? Some sort of best mate you are!"

Harry closed his eyes, and checked that the magic of the Silencing Ward had taken hold. Good, it had. With that-

"How dare you call me your best mate, when you didn't even write to me all summer?" Harry retorted.

"Merlin, you're still angry about that? I thought you were over this!"

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN TRY! YOU DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO FIND A WAY AROUND THE RULES! YOU DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO BLOODY UNDERSTAND HOW I WAS FEELING, SHUT OUT, ALONE, RIGHT AFTER _BLOODY VOLDEMORT_ RESSURECTED RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE! AND NOW YOU'RE JUST GOING TO SPEAK OVER ME AND CALL ME SELFISH WITHOUT EVEN HEARING ME OUT?"

At the mention of Voldemort Ron went deathly pale and stumbled backwards, and Hermione gave a panicked cry of "Harry-!"

In the part of his mind that was the oasis of calm, rational thought, Harry noted that his anger from Grimmauld Place had not yet abated, no, was not even close to being extinguished; he also noted how funny it would be for onlookers to see his mouth opening and closing without hearing any sound emerge.

At that thought, his anger slowly drained away, once again bringing a wave of pure, unadulterated exhaustion.

"Harry, we already said we were sorry," Hermione muttered desperately. "And I'm sure Ron didn't mean what he said."

Harry thought about pointing out how Ron had never actually apologised back at Grimmauld Place, but thought better of it.

"I'm sure he said exactly what he truly felt, Hermione. I just…I just need some time alone, okay?"

Hermione glanced at Ron, who had, thankfully, fallen silent, though there still was a hint of resentment on his face.

"Harry, you've been avoiding us ever since yesterday. I don't think you should just be doing everything alone, with the state you're in and all."

_Who says I've been doing _everything _alone, huh? _

"Thanks, but I'll be fine. Just leave me be-"

"But Harry, you shouldn't just be going around by yourself, and…" she frowned at Harry, "learning dangerous magic? Harry, what was that spell?"

_The one time I actually _want _to be left by myself, and she insists on following me around. Well, I've had enough._

"_Finite Incantatem_," Harry intoned clearly in lieu of a response. Saying nothing more, he turned and headed for the library, ignoring Hermione's further protests.

Briefly, he thought of turning around and simply Stunning the bushy-haired bookworm, but he held his wand. He didn't need Umbridge to give him another detention that would eat into his already-diminishing free time.

~~~[q]~~~

As Harry nursed his right hand, he reflected on how much Dolores Umbridge resembled the bullies he had faced back before he knew about magic.

With that in mind, he had kept himself submissive, saying nothing more than "Yes, Professor" and "No, Professor". Bullies, like animals playing with toys, always got bored sooner or later, and Harry had dulled himself down significantly. With that, he had escaped a second detention.

Mentally, he added "stealing that black quill" to the list of things he needed to do, along with "think of ways to quietly foment insurrection".

Unfortunately, it was already quite late, which meant that he couldn't follow his original plan of finding an abandoned classroom to begin practice.

_Shame, I wanted to try out those spells that I looked up. At least I know the Silencing Ward works, though I still need to test out the Secrecy and Notice-me-not Charms. And I need to get started on my homework. _And _I need to get up early to exercise tomorrow…I also get the feeling that I'm forgetting something very important…what is it?_

An unfamiliar crisp voice snapped him out of his reverie. "Potter? What are you doing up so late? It's almost curfew."

It was a brown-haired woman, in a white blouse and black skirt, with a round hat with a white bow. "Professor…Usami?"

"You got my name right! Ha, now Merry owes me a cup of coffee…but really, what are you doing up this late?"

"Coming back from detention, Professor," Harry responded. "Professor Umbridge's, if you need to know."

"I doubt that woman has the qualifications to be called a Professor," the dark-haired woman snorted, "though if she asks, I didn't say that," Usami continued, as if she hadn't said anything that might have gotten her in trouble.

Harry's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Well, you should probably be on…your…" Usami's eyes narrowed, and her expression morphed into a scowl. "Potter, follow me to my office, if you would."

"Professor?"

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble." Usami drew her wand as she walked, and muttered a familiar incantation.

_A Patronus? _

The assistant professor spoke a few rapid words to the silvery crow on her wrist before sending it flying down the length of the corridor; Harry thought he could her the syllables "Merry" in the stream of the unfamiliar language.

After a few turns, they reached a plain door, on which a placard was written "Hearn" and "Usami" in English letters. Unfamiliar but complicated runes took up the rest of the rows on the card.

"Inside, please." Usami opened the door, lamps lighting up with a wave of her wand.

Harry had never been to the office of the Divination or Astronomy professors. The room was cluttered, with complicated looking devices and globes lying around on the tables and floor. A bookshelf, filled with complicated titles such as _Symposium of Post–Mysticism _and _Linear Algebra – Concepts and Techniques on Euclidean Spaces_, stood next to a table on which sat a crystal ball. Almost all the wall space was filled with star charts or posters of complicated mathematical diagrams, the rest of which was occupied by a blackboard on which equally complicated diagrams and runes were drawn.

Along with a cute cartoon of a bird perching atop a cat.

As Harry asked himself what he had gotten into his time, Professor Hearn arrived, slightly out of breath. There was another muttered conversation in what was presumably Japanese, and then Professor Hearn sat down across the desk in front of him.

With a grave expression, she spoke. "Potter, are you alright? Is there anything that has been bothering you of late?"

At her words, Harry gave a snort, which turned into a cough. Was he okay, really? He thought back to his nightmares, which had been bothering him since summer began, and to how he had all but fallen out with his two closest friends.

No, he was definitely not fine. But could he trust two adults whom be barely knew with that sort of information?

Instead of a yes or a no, Harry replied, "What makes you think I'm _not_ alright?"

The professors exchanged a glance, after which Hearn spoke, somewhat carefully. "The marks on the back of your right hand. Have you been hurting yourself?"

Harry looked again at the remnants of Umbridge's detention. "Oh, you're referring to this?" he waved his hand nonchalantly. "It's from the detention with Professor Umbridge that I had…just…now…" he trailed off, for the Divination professor had stood up and was emitting a palpable, foreboding, aura.

"Merry, you can't! She's with the English Ministry!" Usami had stood up too, and had placed her hand on Hearn's arm, on which the blonde witch had drawn her wand. "You'll be fired!"

"Not if she doesn't realise that she's been cursed in the first place," Hearn retorted. "Still, I better not do anything too lasting, so I suppose I'll have to be content with _this_." With a wave of her other hand, and what appeared to be an expenditure of significant magical effort–

–a _gap_ opened in space, revealing a void that was eldritch and purple, filled with glowing red eyes. Pointing her wand into the gap, Hearn intoned clearly.

"_Norohareta Nemuru._" A spell of pale grey shot out of her wand into the gap. With another wave of her empty hand, the gap closed, and Hearn dropped back into her chair.

"Now you've done it," Usami sighed. "How strong was it?"

"About the same as if you ate too much at dinner, and had a mild guilty conscience, I suppose."

"And the duration?"

"About three days. Or should I say three nights?" Hearn quipped. "Maybe I should have waited until young Mr Potter left."

The Potter in question, however, was staring, open-mouthed, at what had just happened.

_Lupin was great, and Fake Moody got points for bouncing ferret Malfoy around before he dragged me off to the graveyard, but I think I might have a candidate for new favourite teacher. _

"You'll have to take a magical vow, then. Can't risk the memory of my little prank being stolen by someone else."

"Merry…" Usami start to growl. "You can't just make magical oaths with students! If the Headmaster finds out-"

"Anyone tries to _Legilimens_ us, and they'll see nothing but the void." The blonde professor shrugged. Turning back Harry, she continued speaking. "It'll be something like 'I, Harry Potter, swear to never reveal, volitionally or inadvertently, until the end of the school year, the fact that Professor Maribel Hearn cursed Professor Dolores Umbridge on my, Harry Potter's, first visit to Professor Hearn's office.' Is that acceptable?"

As Harry opened his mouth to agree, Maribel spoke again. "Don't agree so quickly. Magical oaths are quite serious. Take some time to think it through." She glanced at the clock on her desk. "Though not that much time, seeing as you're already past curfew. Guess I'll have to write you another note."

Inwardly, Harry ran through the wording of the oath again, before concluding there was nothing wrong with it. He raised his wand and started to say the words-

"No, you have to write it down. Use your own parchment and quill, and make sure there's nothing else on it before you tap your wand against the bottom."

When Harry had finally done what she had asked and passed the professor his paper, she nodded. "Right, and here's your excuse note. Now, before you leave, is there anything you want to ask? Anything at all?"

Harry, who was by now longing for the comfort of his bed, couldn't really think of anything except for the obvious.

"What spell did you use?"

"Minor nightmare hex. It's in Japanese, of course, so you'd be better off looking for an alternative in a Germanic language, which will be easier to learn since your first language is English."

Harry nodded – that seemed to make sense. But there was one more thing…

"What's _Legilimens_ ?"

With the last word of his question, Harry swore and snapped to a duelling stance, finding himself at the wand ends of both professors who had wary expressions on their faces.

After a few moments of confirming that nobody was going to suddenly attack, Maribel lowered her wand.

"Sorry, instinct." Maribel was slightly apologetic. "As I mentioned briefly in our first lesson together, there are two main branches of mind magics. Legilimency is the art of reading minds, though that is a gross oversimplification. The incantation, of course, is that word you just spoke, which I would ask you not to say unless you want someone to think you're attacking them."

Settling into a lecturing tone, Maribel continued. "Skilled Legilimencers can access your thoughts through mere eye contact, and for those who are very skilled, like Headmaster Dumbledore and Potions Master Snape, they can enter and exit your mind without you even knowing. The converse of that is Occlumency, which is the art of defending your mind from magical intrusion."

"Of course, Occlumency has numerous other uses, such as passively improving one's ability to retain and absorb information." At Harry's gobsmacked look, Maribel sighed. "You can remember more things and learn new things faster."

_Looks like there's a new thing on the menu._

"For fifth years, I actually planned to go into the beginnings of Occlumency closer to the end of the year, once the OWL material had been covered, so you'll have that to look forward to."

"Do you think you can teach me?" Harry blurted out, before he could stop himself. "I mean-"

Maribel exchanged another look with her partner. "I will make no promises," she stated flatly. "And I think that's all the time we have for today."

As Harry stood to leave, Maribel gave a few parting words. "Remember, Mr Potter, that our door is always open for you if you ever need a listening ear. That is, I think, the least of what I can do as a professor in these troubled times."

* * *

_With that, Best Girl (which is Luna) is finally here. I hope I can do her character justice._

_Also, don't murder me for using the phrase "bushy-haired bookworm". _

_Review please!_


	5. Boys and Girls in the Age of Magic

Harry Potter, along with the utter mess that is the class schedule at Hogwarts, is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

If Rowling didn't have any consistency with her dates, I'm free to do the same too. Right? Right?

* * *

**Chapter 05 – Boys and Girls in the Age of Magic**

"That was a rather exciting visit, don't you think?" Maribel said cheerfully, before toppling into the nearby sofa. Sweat was noticeable on her brow. "Oh dear…"

"You cursed Umbridge, and made a magical oath with a student," Renko said, somewhat dully. "Not that I mind, but I'd like to enjoy my trip to the UK a while longer."

"Don't be like that, Renko." Maribel spoke weakly from the sofa. "Help me up?"

"I should let you sleep here tonight," Renko grumbled, before extending a hand. Hauling Merry up from the sofa, Renko draped her friend's arm around her shoulder, before letting Merry's weight rest against her side. "I still can't believe you're so light even with the amount of sweets you've been eating."

"Unlike the Hakurei, I just have good metabolism." Maribel gave a tinkling laugh, then sagged further.

"Pity that didn't come with better constitution._"_ With a wave of Renko's wand, the lamps dimmed, and the pair began to make their way back to their quarters slowly.

"Do you think…we did…the right thing?" From her position near Renko's shoulder, Maribel began to slur her words.

"In principle yes, but in execution, not really, seeing as to how you're utterly drained from using _that_." Renko glanced around. "Also, if you fall asleep on me, I swear I will dump you right here in this corridor."

Glaring at the few curiously watching portraits who were still awake, Renko extracted her wand (with some difficulty, as she was still supporting a near-comatose Maribel), and muttered a quick _Repello Muggletum_.

"Repello Muggletum. _Repello Muggletum." _With a growl, the spell succeeded on the third try, and the watching portraits returned went back to sleep in disinterest.

_Merry's the one who's better at this,_ Renko grumbled to herself. _Not that I blame her for getting angry…_

"Yeah, but… you love me too much…to…to…" Maribel muttered sleepily, from near Renko's elbow.

"Shut up, you idiot."

~~~[q]~~~

The only downside to seeing Professor Merry curse Umbridge was that he couldn't tell anyone else.

That was what Harry thought to himself, as he made his way to Wednesday's first lesson of the day. In his bag were two copies of his dream diary, one of which contained innocuous fiction, and another, longer scroll, which contained the unvarnished truth of his nightmares ever since his return to Hogwarts. With the removal of Trelawney, the magics of Divination had suddenly seemed much more plausible, and much less an exercise in conjuring wool.

It had still been a pain to stay up late after that little incident to finish writing everything, though. Not to mention that casual bombshell that the Professor had dropped about both Dumbledore and Snape being literal _mind readers_.

Were Harry not already exhausted from the night's events, he would have probably set _something_ on fire out of sheer anger. As it stood, dealing with that particular revelation just became one more thing on his growing agenda.

In contrast to Monday's lesson, the classroom now contained tables and chairs, with a small space at the front. Sunlight still streamed in from the windows.

Catching Neville's eye, he moved quickly to sit next to him, receiving a nod in greeting.

"Avoiding Ron, huh?"

"You're the one that told me to mix around more," Harry said, in lieu of a distinct yes or no.

"So that's a yes?" Neville jabbed back.

"Yeah, yeah," sighed Harry. "But after that argument, can you blame me?"

"Technically, you were the one that started it."

Harry winced. "Despite what the rest of the school might think, I still have emotions. Better for us to avoid each other until I can look at him without wanting to curse him to oblivion."

"Fair point". Neville did not continue, for the redhead in question had entered in the classroom. Seeing Harry and Neville together, Ron's expression turned sour, and he plopped down on the nearest seat, putting significant distance between them.

Refraining from commenting further, Harry instead ran through the meditation exercise again, muttering a quick _Tempus_. Despite how recently it had been taught, it was almost becoming something of a tic to him, as natural as running a hand through his naturally messy hair.

"You're becoming real fond of that spell, aren't you?"

"Well…" _How am I even going to explain this?_

Harry was saved from answering by the entrance of the two professors, who appeared to be carrying a stack of booklets and…a pair of earmuffs?

_Did Professor Merry just _wink_ at me? _

"Good morning, class. Homework to the front, please, and make sure to get a copy of _Dream Interpretation for Magicals_ from the front desk."

"Now, I am aware that some of you," Professor Merry's eyes rested on Parvati and Lavender for a brief moment, "have been wondering why we did nothing but meditate all last lesson. Others," she glanced at Ron, "seemed to have taken it as an opportunity to take a nap."

There were a few uncomfortable looks.

"I did say that it was an exercise to train one to be more in tune with one's own magic. Were I your predecessor, I perhaps would have said that it would help you get more in touch with your Inner Eye, but the existence of such a thing is still a matter of debate. Instead, I shall provide you with a practical demonstration. Renko?"

The assistant professor passed over what seemed to be a black blindfold and the pair of aforementioned earmuffs, causing a susurration of mutters to rise over the class.

"I would like to invite any volunteer to come to the front and cast a spell at Professor Merry. Anyone?" Professor Usami looked around the class. "Mr Finnigan?"

Seamus Finnigan rose from his desk, and walked over to the front.

"Cast when ready, Mr Finnigan."

Seamus raised his wand hesitantly. "_Rictumsempra!"_

A whitish spell streaked towards the blindfolded Divination professor, who deftly stepped aside and let it impact harmlessly again the wall.

"A few more times for the nonbelievers, if you would."

The Irish boy nodded. Seemingly gaining confidence, he yelled "_Expelliarmus! Tarantellegra!"_

Again, the purple-dressed professor dodged nimbly.

Almost unconsciously, Harry began to clap, and the rest of the class followed suit.

Professor Usami raised her hand, and the polite applause stopped. "Thank you. And take five points to Gryffindor for some solid spellcasting, Mr Finnigan."

Seamus nodded with some surprise, and returned to his seat.

"Just to lay any doubts to rest, I would like to invite anyone who can cast non-verbally up to the front." When nobody looked to volunteer, Professor Usami sighed. "I understand that within Hogwarts, you are not expected to cast silently until after OWLs, but really, it is something that is less difficult to learn than it seems. With no volunteers, however…"

Quick as a flash, the assistant professor flicked her hand, and what Harry recognised to be an _Impedimenta_ sailed over to the still-blindfolded Merry.

A translucent _Protego_ appeared before Merry, now with wand in hand, and the blue light of the Impediment Jinx rebounded to fly out through an open window. The Divination Professor pulled off the blindfold and earmuffs to another round of applause.

"Silent _and_ wandless casting?Why aren't they teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Neville whispered intently to Harry.

"Ministry of Magic interference, probably," Harry whispered back. "Or maybe she was smart enough to avoid the curse on the DADA position."

_Imagine how much faster I could be if I didn't need to say all those pesky words._

"Now that we've had our fun for today, please turn openyour copy of _Dream Interpretation for Magicals_ to page three." Professor Merry continued. "As you might know, dream interpretation is something practiced by both magicals and nonmagicals alike, though it is usually only efficacious for magical beings. Interestingly, the most notable contribution to modern dream interpretation was made by a nonmagical human, who published his seminal book about a hundred years ago. What we will cover, then, stems from both pre-existing magical theories as well as these new principles…"

In the very end, Harry didn't end up sharing his nightmares with Neville, though he felt that they were quickly becoming friends.

~~~[q]~~~

Thursday evening found Harry in an unused classroom, alone, staring dully at a blank, clean blackboard.

Secrecy, notice-me-not, and silencing charms were on the doorway.

_That'll teach me think only one step ahead._

Feeling somewhat stupid, Harry fired off a Stunning Spell at nothing in particular, and swore as it rebounded off a wall and nearly hit his shoulder.

There was nobody else to stun, and no living creature around to cast _Impedimenta_ on, either. That left only a small number of things he could think of…

Readying himself into somewhat of a fighting stance, Harry raised his wand and confidently intoned "_Accio!"_, before collapsing to the ground in pain, having been ambushed by flying chairs.

Sure, it wasn't anywhere as bad as a _Crucio_, but knowing that it was due to his own sheer stupidity made it painful in other ways.

_And at least the pain of the Cruciatus Curse immediately wears off if the caster stops. _

Harry gave himself the luxury of laying on the ground for a few moments more, after which he got to his feet. He gave a wince at his ribs, which was sure to be bruised the next morning, and looked around again for something he could use.

_I suppose…what was that spell that Tonks used? I could practice moving things around. Better than nothing, right? _

"_Locomotor,"_ Harry intoned, gesturing at a fallen chair. It rose slightly off the ground, and Harry idly moved it in the air, watching it dance while waving his wand like a conductor's baton.

_I wonder…_

With a muster of focus, Harry shouted "_Depulso!"_

The chair impacted the back of the classroom with a loud crash, and broke into two.

Harry winced at the noise. Thankfully, he could still feel a connection to his Silencing Ward, which meant that it was still up and working.

_Now, on to the harder stuff._

A hasty _Reparo_ mended the chair, and Harry strode back to his bag, retrieving the notes that were the product of two hours' work in the Library.

Magic, Harry had surmised, was about intent. Young children could achieve magical effects through the sheer force of their emotions alone, because their magic was not yet stable and focused. As a person gets older, their magic stabilizes, and their emotions become more controlled and less vivid.

This was why wandless magic could still be achieved when a person was under a sufficiently stressful situation, but most of the time, an incantation (corresponding to the spell's effect) and a wand movement (usually derived from a rune that also corresponds to the spell's effect) was needed. The wand itself, having a core of magical material, also assisted greatly in channelling magic.

Older books had taught about the importance of intent and focus. Newer books had snarked about forcing the universe to bend to your command. Very little had been said about exactly _how_ to do those things.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

_Come, listen to the call of your magic._

He recalled his life before he came to Hogwarts. He recalled the incidents where weird things happened to save him from unpleasant situations. When he had regrown his hair after his aunt had shaved it off. When he had ended up on the school's roof while running away from bullies.

Harry listened to himself, and silently spoke his will into the world.

_Locomotor_, Harry thought, and the chair rose a foot off the ground. _Wingardium Leviosa_, Harry thought further, and with a swish and a flick the chair rose a bit higher, now trembling slightly, as if the magical hand that held it was fast running out of strength.

With a final thought of _Depulso!_, the much-abused piece of furniture…

…toppled over vaguely in the forward direction, and hit the ground.

Harry weakly pulled over another chair and collapsed in it. Somehow, even as poor as the attempt went, he had performed his first, no, his first three silent spells. And he knew that a material barrier could stop the Killing Curse, which could pass through all magical shields.

_But was this enough to defeat Voldemort?_

Images of him powerless, running in terror from gravestone to gravestone, again surfaced in his mind.

"No," he heard himself speak to the empty classroom. "It's bloody well not."

He stood, and raised his wand again.

_Turn your focus outward; magic is all around us. Turn your focus inward; magic is within all of you._

What did he want? He wanted the Dark Lord to be dead. He wanted to be free, to live without a shadow over his future.

He wanted Voldemort to pay, for taking his parents away from him, to consigning him to ten long years of suffering at the Dursleys.

_Locomotor. Wingardium Leviosa._

Harry pictured the chair flying forward, pictured it smashing into Voldemort, pictured the pale, snakelike man lying in a broken heap on the ground.

_Depulso._ Harry thought harder than he had ever thought in his life; he could feel his magic, his will, surging through his wand, connecting with the chair, no the instrument of death that held the shape of a chair-

-which now lay in several small pieces, below a crater on the wall.

There was ringing in his ears, and he was vaguely aware that his last spell had somehow broken the charms he had placed on the classroom door.

For a very short eternity, or a very long moment, he simply stood and stared at the wall, too drained to move or even think.

Only when the sound of light footsteps approaching reached his ears did he think about reaching for the Cloak inside his bag. Noting that his limbs seemed to be like lead, he simply sat down again and awaited his inevitable detention.

From a distance away, he heard a small, curious voice.

"Harry Potter."

"Luna Lovegood." Harry tiredly replied, mimicking the usage of the full name, not even bothering to look up. "Where are your shoes?"

"They're on a mysterious journey of their own, I'd expect."

"Interesting," Harry said. He did not particularly want to speak at the moment, but there seemed to be a ticking on the edge of his awareness. Somewhat forcing the words out, he said, "Do you need help looking for them?"

_Great, and now I sound unnecessarily harsh to someone who probably doesn't deserve it. Way to go, Harry._

"Not really. They always turn up again in the end."

Having a sudden pang of sympathy for the girl, Harry stood. "Hey, come here for a second."

"Hmm?"

Recalling an incantation from a stormy Quidditch pitch two years ago, Harry aimed his wand at Luna's feet. "_Impervius. _There, now you should be able to walk around a bit more safely even without your shoes."

"That's awfully nice of you, Harry." Luna said. She had a wry expression on her face, which Harry found difficult to read.

"I'll be a bit nicer," Harry spoke further. With a quick _Tempus_ (and how easy that felt now!) he checked the time, which was now several minutes past nine. "It's already curfew. I'll escort you back to…Ravenclaw Tower?" he said, slightly uncertain. He had a vague inkling that the Hufflepuff common room was near the kitchens from last year, and was familiar with the Slytherins from his previous experience with Polyjuice Potion, but he realized he had never thought about where the Ravenclaws stayed.

"Yes, that is where the Ravenclaws are," Luna confirmed. "But how do you plan on getting us there– oooh!"

As they made their way to Ravenclaw Tower under the Invisibility Cloak (with directions provided by Luna), the blonde girl suddenly spoke up. "Harry, have you ever heard…about _The Tale of the Three Brothers_?"

"What's that?" Harry replied quietly. _Also, I don't remember it being this stuffy under the Cloak._

"It's a fairy tale," Luna said matter-of-factly.

"You mean like _Cinderella?_ " Harry asked back curiously. As much as his Uncle and Aunt had disliked anything out of the ordinary, Harry had read widely enough at his old primary school's library. This was immensely helped by the fact that the librarians always chased out Dudley and his gang if they got too rowdy – which was nearly almost always.

"So you were raised by Muggles, huh?" Luna remarked. "_The Three Brothers_ is a wizarding fairy tale, silly. One of the oldest stories, one of the few not twisted by Beedle the Bard."

"You've already lost me there, Luna."

"I'll lend you my copy, if it hasn't already been taken," Luna continued patiently. "This Cloak might turn out to be a legendary artefact, you know."

"This isn't another–" Harry was about to say _another one of your wacky conspiracy theories, isn't it_, when he stepped back and considered the implications of his statement. Choosing another tack altogether, he said "Wait, wizards have a separate set of fairy tales? Then how do you know about _Cinderella_?_"_

"All fairy tales are magical. That's what Daddy always told me when I was younger," Luna said serenely. "He also said that _Alice in Wonderland_ was written by a Muggle Arithmancer, which I thought was quite funny."

She stopped abruptly in front of a spiral staircase, and Harry bumped into her.

"Well, this is where we part, Harry. It was nice of you to walk me back – it felt like an adventure." Luna extracted herself from under the Cloak. "Alas, all adventures must end."

"If you want another adventure, you can always tell me," Harry found himself saying, only half-jokingly. "Goodnight, Luna."

"Goodnight, Harry. I'll look forward to it." With a last smile, the whimsical girl disappeared up the flight of spiral stairs.

"_I'll lend you my copy, if it hasn't already been taken." _ No book. No shoes.

A very ugly picture was beginning to build, and Harry did not like what it was turning out to be.

_Will you charge right forward, or will you wait and see?_

Nevertheless, there was nothing he could do at the moment, so he turned and left.

~~~[q]~~~

By Friday evening, the demonstrations of the Divination Professors had become the main topic of rumour around the school, supplanting the aspersions on Harry's character. Harry, who had been considering using Notice-Me-Not Charms on his own person, was of course glad for the change.

Currently, he was at the Hogwarts Library attempting to find a table of his own, but it seemed that everywhere was full, even if there were less red-trimmed robes around than usual.

_Right, Quidditch tryouts. _

Sighing to himself, but not wanting to return to his Common Room, he hesitantly approached a group of Hufflepuffs, one of which had expressed their support to him earlier.

"Hey, Macmillan, do you mind if I join you all?"

A somewhat surprised Ernie Macmillan looked up, along with the two girls he was with.

"Sure, Potter, go ahead." He waved a hand at the last free seat on the table. "And call me Ernie. Macmillan's a mouthful and I'm not my father, if you know what I mean."

'Thanks, Ernie. Call me Harry." Harry sat down gratefully, and began to pull out his homework. "And you girls are…Bones and Abbott, right?"

"You can call me Sue, if you want," the girl with the plaited hair shrugged. "Same goes for Hannah. Right, Hannah?" She grinned at the other girl, who was attempting to be as insignificant as possible.

"R-right." The long-haired, heart-shaped-face girl smiled shyly back.

_If I have to deal with another Ginny Weasley, I'm out of here._

Thankfully, that was not actually the case. In between questions about various pieces of homework, and dancing around more sensitive topics such as the end of last year, Harry found out a bit more about the Hufflepuffs, like how Ernie's family ran an import/export business for various goods, and how Hannah had ambitions to become a Healer.

_Hmm, this "talking to other people" thing seems to be easier than I thought._

Eventually, the topic turned to the question on every student's mind.

"Hey, Harry. Did the Divination Professors do anything special for your second lesson?"

"What, like demonstrating silent and wandless magic?" Harry replied. "Yeah, that happened."

"Told you it probably wasn't just us," Susan remarked to Ernie.

"I wonder what's going on with the Ministry, then," Ernie spoke back up. "Appointing such a useless teacher at this critical period, when a better candidate is in plain sight? Even if they're in denial of You-Know-Who's return, to give us a teacher which seems to be actively preventing us from using defensive spells seems to be more than simple incompetence." He looked over at Susan. "Your aunt's in the Ministry, right? Shouldn't she know things?"

"She's too busy dealing with shrinking budgets and low recruit numbers," Susan sighed. "There's enough on her plate such that she barely has time to look at other Departments." She shook her head. "I really think the only way is for us to practice by ourselves."

"We could start a Duelling Club, just like in Second Year," Hannah piped up. "Maybe Flitwick could supervise? Or even Professor Hearn?"

"Somehow, I highly doubt Umbridge would let that pass," Harry said bitterly. "And besides, after what actually happened back then, I'm not exactly fond of that idea."

The group took a moment to mull over past memories.

"…hey, Harry," Susan spoke up again. "What exactly happened back then? We know you won a Special Award for Services to the School, but Dumbledore never actually told us."

Harry sighed to himself. He should have known that eventually, people would start asking questions about his misadventures. "If I tell you," he said slowly, "you have to promise to believe–no, you have to promise me that you'll at least not call me a liar straight away."

"Harry," Ernie replied gravely. "I've already publicly voiced my support for you, if you recall. In fact, with the school as it is right now, I would say you're looking at the few people who actually have faith in you."

_Much as it pains me to admit, he kind of has a point._ Harry looked at the three Hufflepuffs, and began his tale. "It all started when me and Ron saw the message on the wall…"

At the end of the retelling, Hannah's eyes had become as wide as saucers, while Ernie and Susan's faces held identical looks of horror and awe. All three let out an audible gasp (and were quickly shushed by Madam Pince) when Harry rolled up his sleeve to reveal the scar from the Basilisk's bite.

"I guess with that, producing a corporeal Patronus would be no big deal," said Susan, who recovered first.

"Corporeal…Patronus?" asked Harry. "Is your aunt…" he mimed having a monocle over his left eye.

"She's Amelia Bones, Head of Magical Law Enforcement," confirmed Susan. "And yes, she does wear a monocle. Says its enchanted to help detect Dark Magic, or something. I've never asked the details."

"And I don't suppose you've been around to Neville's house for tea?" inquired Harry, recalling a conversation from the start of term.

"He and I and Hannah have known each other since we were kids," said Susan simply. "He's always put in a good word for you, you know. Says you're a good guy, even if you don't talk much to others."

"Ah, well," Harry awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "I guess I should start doing that more often."

_Thanks, Neville._

"I've got it," Hannah piped up, breaking the tension. "Harry should teach us Defense."

"What?" Ernie voiced. "Actually, on second thought…"

"I mean, he's clearly good enough at it. And he's fought You-Know-Who first-hand, and came back when C-Cedric–"

At the mention of the name, Susan and Ernie shared identical looks of alarm.

"No, it's fine," Hannah gave a small sniff. "We need to get stronger, right? It's not just for OWLs, but also to fight You-Know-Who and his–"

"–and his Death Eaters, yeah." Harry finished for the girl, who still look slightly teary-faced. He stared down the three Hufflepuffs. "I'll think about it. Really think about it, like find a place to meet, and think about what spells to practice."

_After all, it's already something similar to what I've been thinking of doing._

"But before I do that, I don't want any of you to tell anyone else. Not even your fellow Hufflepuffs. Nothing. I don't want to teach people I don't trust." A ghost of a plan was beginning to form in Harry's mind.

Ernie looked to be about to protest, when Susan quietly held up a hand. "If he's the one teaching, it's fair for him to set some conditions."

"Extremely fair." The more Harry spoke, the more things seemed to put themselves together. "You can always teach your friends, after all. Well, now that that's out of the way," he turned to Hannah, "Hannah, you mind helping me with Snape's moonstones essay?"

~~~[q]~~~

It was a tired but satisfied Harry that returned to a deserted Common Room late that night, with his homework finally caught up on for the first time in what felt like ages. Heading straight to the comfy chair by the fireplace, he brushed aside a flyer for something called "The Grand Guignol Orchestra" and what appeared to be a discarded Arithmancy essay, only to find something that looked like a…woolly bladder?

He was about to chuck that aside too when he realised that he was, in fact, not actually alone.

"Dobby? What are you doing here?"

The elf jumped as if caught in an act of wrongdoing.

"Cleaning up the hats, Master Harry Potter sir!"

"Hats? You mean these?" He held up the woolly object.

"Yes, Master Harry Potter sir! Mistress Grangy be leaving clothes all around Gryffindor Tower, and the other house-elves are being offended. None of them will clean this place anymore."

_Damn it, Hermione._

"But Dobby does it all himself, and does not mind, for he has hoped to met Harry Potter again." The elf sank into a bow. "Harry Potter looks happy, and that is good. Dobby has also been much happier since Harry Potter set him free. If Harry Potter ever needs any help, Dobby would be happy to oblige."

"Well…" Harry trailed off. "If you happen to know a good place to practice magic without being discovered by anyone, that would be nice."

And that was how Harry learnt of the Room of Requirement.

* * *

_A few fun facts for you this time: _

_The Japanese use the term "sweets" to refer to not just candy, but also cake, cookies, and other confectionery. _

_The word "Muggle" has its roots in the word "mug", which refers to a gullible or weak-minded person in British slang. _

_Sigmund Freud wrote _The Interpretation of Dreams, _which was published in 1889. It probably doesn't work for us because we don't have magic, or so I would like to believe._

_Review please!_


	6. The Girl's Secret Room

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

I'm back, baby.

* * *

**Chapter 06 – Locked Girl ~ The Girl's Sealed Room**

"Sirius Black." Harry clearly enunciated into the mirror.

It was Sunday night, two days after Dobby had led him to the Room of Requirement, and he was sitting in bed with a _Silencio Circumta_ over the surrounding curtains.

_Seriously, why he never suggested using this over _literally anything else _that would be more easily intercepted is mind-boggling to me_.

Harry felt the mirror grow slightly warmer in his hands, and then his godfather's face swam into view.

"Harry? Is everything alright?"

"No, it bloody isn't," Harry said, a tad waspish. "Why didn't you tell me you had this mirror all along? Do you know how easily letters can be intercepted? And with Umbridge in Hogwarts, how long do you think it'll take before she starts doing things like reading students' mail?"

"I…huh, I never really thought of that." Sirius awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "I just thought it'll be a cool thing for you to have, you know. Besides, most wizards prefer writing letters – mirrors are pretty much only used within the Aurors and Hitwizards for quick communication."

"Well, now that we have it, we're going to use it." Harry nodded. "And I'm sorry about snapping at you. This week hasn't been good."

"So, what's up?" From his side of the mirror Harry could see the background shift slightly, which meant that Sirius was probably now lounging on the sofa back in Grimmauld.

"Well, how about I tell you about my first week, and then you can decide?" The words came slowly at first, then sped up. About the nightmares, about Umbridge and the Divination Professors, about his falling out with Ron and Hermione, about the idea to learn and teach Defence.

He could see Sirius grow more concerned with each word. At the end of it all, he let out a low whistle.

"You didn't say you were having nightmares." Sirius said slowly.

"Well, it seemed like a minor detail compared to everything else that's been happening." Harry shrugged. "Besides, I've had them since…well, since the graveyard."

"Merlin's trousers, Harry." Sirius shook his head. "And your scar's been prickling too?"

"Dumbledore says it happens whenever Voldemort was feeling strong emotions. It's probably worse now that he's back in full form." Harry gave a frustrated sigh. "I just wish I can…I don't know, just sleep without waking up screaming, or thinking of some random places or things that Voldemort's been thinking of."

Sirius looked to be on the verge of saying something, but he didn't. After a pause, he seemed to settle for something else. "If this was a one-off thing, I'd tell you to go get Dreamless Sleep Potion, but it's too dangerous – you might get addicted." Harry's godfather gave a wince. "Maybe Occlumency?"

"Isn't that just defending your mind from attack? And mental organization?"

"Yeah, and it also helps with, uh, stabilising the mind." Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Harry, have you been doing research of your own? Because I don't think Occlumency was ever mentioned at Hogwarts. At least, not before NEWTs."

"The new Divination Professor mentioned it during class. She's great," Harry became more cheerful at the thought of Professor Merry. "And she knows her stuff. It almost makes me glad that Trelawney was attacked." Harry gave a lopsided smile. True to his oath, he couldn't tell his godfather about Professor Merry cursing Umbridge, so he decided he'd just leave out that entire event altogether. "Which I more than I can say about Umbridge."

"I'm not surprised to hear about Umbridge. She's a nasty piece of work – you should hear Remus go on about her."

"Lupin knows her?"

"She passed some anti-werewolf legislation that made it nearly impossible for him to get a job. Apparently, she hates part-humans. But Occlumency in Divination?"

"Professor Merry said it counts. I don't think I want to argue with someone who can sense magic and dodge spells blindfolded."

"Dumbledore must have seen this coming, then," nodded Sirius. "I heard some things over the summer, when he and McGonagall were both over. Apparently it was an old friend from Grindelwald's War."

"Grindelwald's War?"

"I think Muggles know it as…" Sirius clapped his hands. "World War Two? Is that what it was called?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded. In the nonmagical schools Harry had attended (and also in the random books he had read), he knew, briefly, that Japan was involved in the Second World War, though not much more than that. Even as a child, history hadn't been what excited him, though he still found it somewhat interesting.

"Yes! I knew I still got it." Sirius pumped a fist in the air.

"Uhh, Sirius?"

Harry's godfather slowly lowered his hand. "Right, sorry. It's just that back in the day, Lily was bothering all of us with Muggle facts, and she said we'd never remember."

"Right…" Harry wasn't sure what to say, even if he was mildly curious.

"Alright, next topic!" Sirius waved his hand to dispel the awkwardness. "What's this about a secret Defence group?"

"I met some Hufflepuffs." Harry shrugged. "Seems like a lot of people are angry about Umbridge, especially those who accepted that Voldemort is back."

"Word from inside the Ministry says Fudge doesn't want the students trained in combat." Sirius nodded along. "He's afraid Dumbledore's going to form his own private army."

"Fudge is an idiot," said Harry bitterly. "Half the students here don't even support Dumbledore."

"Well, he's growing more and more paranoid. I wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore gets arrested on some trumped-up charge."

"Speaking of arrests, you'd better be on the lookout," Harry said, remembering what Malfoy had said to them at King's Cross. "I think they know your Animagus form is a dog."

"Tch. It's not as if I can go out anyway. I've just been stuck here all week my myself, with only that batty old elf for company."

Harry realised with a rush that Sirius was in pretty much the same position as he had been that summer.

"Actually, if you want something to do, you could help me."

Sirius' face visibly lit up. "Anything for my godson."

"Find me some spells." Harry suggested. "Combat spells. Support spells. Anything useful. I don't even care if they're Dark, I just want things that can _help_."

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "Don't worry about that, Harry. That's usually a matter of Ministry classification, though James and I learnt to stay away from the nasty stuff like blood sacrifice."

Harry jumped slightly at the casual revelation that his father might have dabbled into the Dark Arts.

"Yeah, that was back in the first war with Voldemort. We learnt a few tricks to surprise Death Eaters. I'll comb through the Black Library and my old notes, send you spells that are safe–"

"Not by owl," interrupted Harry. "I wouldn't put it past Umbridge to be monitoring mail."

"By this mirror, then," nodded Sirius. "Though you'll need to copy it down."

"I don't mind. How does this mirror work, anyway?"

"Modified Protean Charm, some other charms, and some runework, I'd guess," Sirius shrugged again. "You can buy a pair at most wizarding shops, it's not that rare."

"Huh," said Harry, making a mental note. "And do I need to be holding it while I'm talking?"

"If you touch it every, hmm, about every fifteen minutes, it should be fine. Why the oddly specific question, though?"

Harry gave a cryptic smile. "Now, that would be telling."

~~[q]~~

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM: DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR

"For heaven's sake." Flipping open the copy of the _Daily Prophet_, Harry confirmed that the article was indeed, again, nothing but sanitised propaganda. With a feeling of renewed annoyance, he noted that Umbridge now had the power to inspect other teachers, which meant that she was likely going to appear in more than just the usual Defence classes.

He found it fortunate that she did not appear in History of Magic, nor in Potions, where Snape was being his usual nasty self. Heeding Professor Merry's warning about Snape being a Legilimens, Harry did his best to avoid eye contact, and succeeded in avoiding confrontation once again.

It was not until Divination, where he had settled down into his now-usual seat next to Neville, that Professor Umbridge appeared.

"Ah yes, Inquisitor Umbridge," Professor Merry mildly greeted, the moment the pink-clad witch swept into the classroom as if she owned it. "Kindly take a seat in the corner there–" She indicated a chair and a desk at the classroom's corner, which, unlike the other desks, had not been paired, "–and refrain from asking questions until the lecture is over."

Perhaps unused to the initiative, Umbridge mutely sat where she was shown, where she then retrieved a clipboard from her bag and waited for the class to begin. Harry noted that Professor Usami, who normally stood at the back, seemed to be flicking looks at her every now often.

When it seemed like most people had settled down, Professor Merry straightened her purple dress and began her lecture.

"Today, as a complement to dream interpretation, we shall embark on cartomancy, the art of divination using cards. The most common, of course, is the use of a Tarot deck." With a wave of her wand, a drawing of a deck, neatly laid out in rows and columns, appeared on the blackboard. "Of course, as with all things, multiple versions of Tarot exist. This is the Rider-Waite deck, the most widely-used variant of the Tarot. Hands up if you know which magician devised this."

When no answers were forthcoming, Merry simply smiled and continued. "To be honest, I expected magicals in a British school, of all things, to know about their more famous countrymen in modern history. It was devised by A.E. Waite, a British magician, and published by the Rider company, hence the name of Rider-Waite."

Merry tapped her wand on the board again, and the illustrations changed. "This is the Tarot of Marseilles, more usually used by the French." Another tap. "And this last variant is the Thoth Tarot, devised by Aleister Crowley, another famous–or should I say, infamous, British magical."

When she was again met with blank faces, the Divination Professor sighed. "The battle of Blythe Road is one of the few magical duels has also been recorded in nonmagical history. But since I am the Divination Professor and not a ghost that has been teaching in this castle for over fifty years, I shall not delve more into the topic of Modern Magical History."

There were a few mild chuckles.

"Now, compared to dream interpretation, where there exists multiple interpretations to each symbol due to personal experiences, the meanings of each Tarot card have largely been codified and agreed upon. I will touch more on symbolic interpretation as a whole during our next lesson together, but for now, please come to the front and take your handout for this lesson, as well as a Rider-Waite deck, to be shared between you and your partner."

Above the din of grinding chairs, she called: "A tarot deck only works if it has been attuned to the user, so please channel your magic through it before attempting a reading! The instructions are in the handout!"

Seeing as the lecture portion of the lesson had now finished, Umbridge had now stood up, and was walking over to Professor Merry, undoubtedly to begin to question her.

With a hasty burst of magic (which now came quite easily to him), Harry attuned the surprisingly thick deck of cards, and began dealing them into the Celtic Cross formation as indicated in the handout, all the while trying to listen in on Umbridge's and Merry's conversation. Professor Usami was walking around and helping the students, though she had a distinctly amused look on her face.

"Now," said Umbridge, looking up from her clipboard, "how many years of teaching experience do you have?"

"Five," Merry smiled at Umbridge, "though I am mostly a researcher."

"And your qualifications?"

"Mastery in Charms from Mahoutokoro Higher Magical Academy, and a bachelor's degree in Psychology from Kyoto University." Gesturing at Professor Usami, she went on. "Assistant Professor Usami there has a combined Mastery in Astronomy and Arithmancy, and a bachelor's in Physics, also awarded from the same institutions."

"I see." Umbridge's eyes had narrowed, presumably at the mention of _Muggle_ qualifications. She scribbled a note. "And these qualifications are relevant to Divination?"

"I made sure to review the local textbooks and what was left behind by my predecessor before putting together this course. That is not to mention that a Mastery implies not only expertise in a particular field, but also competence in magical theory in general." Merry's expression had not changed from that same smile. "In any case, I was not aware that a Mastery in a subject was required to teach it at Hogwarts."

"No, of course not," Umbridge bristled, and made another note. "And as a foreigner, do you think you are able to teach in a manner adhering to our British customs and traditions?"

"Seeing as you did not show any look of recognition at the names of two famous British magicians, I would say I am reasonably confident. I am, after all, more well-versed in British magical history than a high-level government administrator who was presumably brought up and educated in this same country." Merry's smile, while remaining unchanged, somehow managed to convey to any onlooker that she thought her partner in conversation was an incompetent of the highest degree.

Harry suppressed a chuckle. Surreptitiously looking around, he noticed that almost the entire class was hanging on the conversation's every word. Glancing over at the other Professor, he saw that Renko now had a smirk on her face.

"I…I see." Umbridge was now furiously scribbling away on her clipboard. "And if you would make a prediction for me?" Umbridge stumbled for a moment, before returning to a tone of faux-sweetness.

"A prediction, you say." Professor Merry hummed, and tapped at her chin. "Well, I predict," she switched to a more ethereal voice, "that you will be out of Hogwarts by the end of the school year."

"I see." Umbridge raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps a little more detail, if you may?"

"There _are_ limits to predicting the future, Madam Umbridge," Merry was _still smiling_, and Harry had to admire her inner tranquillity at this point. "But for you, I would most definitely say that the end of your time here would be more unpleasant than pleasant, given the track record of previous Defense Professors." She started listing off on her fingers. "Death from possession by a wraith, backfiring Memory Charm, having a private medical condition publicly revealed, and kiss by Dementor." She held up four fingers. "Not a good pattern."

"That is hardly a prediction!" Umbridge exclaimed. "All you did was logically reason!"

"I didn't profess to have the ability to prophesy, Madam High Inquisitor." Merry was still smiling, though her voice turned a hint frosty. "That is something that one is born with, like being a Metamorphagus. The discipline of Divination is simply that by which the average human attempts to recreate karmic revelation. In fact, I would say that a true Seer would actually be ill-suited to teaching Divination, since they would have little understanding of the process, having been gifted with the ability to skip to the conclusion."

_Maybe Trelawney wasn't a fraud, just a poor teacher, _Harry mused.

"Don't try to confuse me with all those fancy words," Umbridge gritted out. "So you admit that you cannot make predictions?"

"I make predictions as well as anyone who has studied as I have," Merry replied patiently. "True prophecies, as I have been saying, are in the domain of Seers. I am not a Seer. I cannot make prophecies that will detail _hitsuzen_–excuse me, that will foretell the inevitable."

"So you admit–"

"Madam Umbridge, I have never once professed to being a Seer. I was not hired to be a Seer. I was hired to teach the art of Divination, and I have been doing so in a systematic and rigorous manner." Merry was no longer smiling. "I plan a curriculum, design handouts, do demonstrations, and guide students when they practice. I do not understand what else is required of me. If you would like, I will send you a copy of my notes."

"I do not think that will be necessary." Umbridge gritted her teeth, then scribbled down more notes on her clipboard. Tucking it back into her bag, she made to leave the classroom. "You will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time."

"Thank you." Merry said gracefully. "As for some free advice, you might want to try eating less at dinner, to improve the quality of your sleep."

Umbridge stumbled slightly, but did not say anything more as she left.

_Did Merry just…reference how she cursed Umbridge? I guess nobody would know though. Except me and Professor Hearn. _

"Right," Merry said, turning back to the class. "I hope that none of you will pretend that you weren't eavesdropping on that conversation." Harry noted how a few people seemed to have slightly guilty looks.

"So, let us turn that into, as they say, a _teachable moment_. Miss Patil, I know you were listening." Parvati jerked to attention. "Tell me, would it be possible for one to become a Seer?"

"No, Professor Merry."

"Quite so." Merry nodded approvingly. "Mr Longbottom. According to what I've said, do prophecies made by true Seers always come true?"

Harry felt Neville stir beside him. "Yes, Professor."

"Sorry, that was a trick question. While it is generally accepted that prophecies always come true, there is no way to prove it for certain. In my home country of Japan, several shrines and archives house scrolls of as-yet unfulfilled prophecies. In Britain, to my knowledge, all prophecies are automatically recorded due to enchantments placed long ago by your favourite wizard, Merlin, and housed in the Hall of Prophecy managed by the Department of Mysteries."

The students had now gone deathly silent and goggle-eyed. This was true Magic, with a capital "M", that made household charms and prank hexes look like parlour tricks in comparison.

"All of you would do well to take a deeper interest in your history and roots, even if you may not always like what you see." Merry said softly, only giving the faintest grimace at the end. "One last question, then. Mr Potter," Merry said, turning to fix Harry with a steely gaze, "even if prophecies may always come true, does that give us any reason to behave as if the future is fixed?"

_Great, why do I always get the hard questions?_ Inwardly, Harry sulked slightly to himself, but his complaint seemed to be shouted down by the heaviness of the moment.

"No, Professor Merry. I think–" and here Harry struggled to find the words, "I think if we do that, then it might as well be fixed already?"

"A good attempt, Mr Potter."

~~[q]~~

"_Reducto! Reducto!"_ Harry cast in quick succession, then dodged to the side as a jet of red light flew towards him. Beads of sweat were visible on his brow, as he turned up his wand for another attack–

–only to get hit by an _Expelliarmus_, followed by several Stinging Hexes.

"Ouch! Ouch! Stop, time out!" As Harry raised his hand, the training dummies froze, then returned to their starting positions.

The Room of Requirement had been a godsend. At least, after Harry figured out how to use it fully. Sure, it couldn't make food or water, and the things it did make couldn't be taken out of it, but it could produce a copy of any book in the Hogwarts Library and some others, and it allowed him to practice duelling–no, _fighting_, without the help of others.

Still, he had only gotten it to work by envisioning–

_An enemy as strong as Voldemort. All of his skill, all of his viciousness, all of his knowledge._ That was the opponent he wanted to learn to fight against, but he had been soundly defeated in less than ten seconds.

Thank goodness the _Crucio_-s that _this_ Voldemort cast stopped when he told it to.

And that was how Harry began to train. Against the shades of the Dark Lord, pulled from his own memory, at _just_ the right level to push him.

Against a group, like a mob during the Quidditch World Cup. Like the circle of Death Eaters back in the graveyard.

With the discovery of the room, almost all of Harry's free time was spent in here. If he wasn't training, he was doing homework, or plotting, or researching spells to use.

It had been two weeks, and Harry was discovering the joys of actually improving in combat, even if it was only slightly better dodging and slightly quicker casting.

Today, though, he would try something new.

"_Consecto Arctus!_" Harry looked away from the book on the table, and cast confidently. A bright blue ribbon of light erupted from the end of his wand, and Harry whipped it across the chest of a nearby dummy, creating a deep gouge in the magical wood that made up the dummy's chest.

Unfortunately, momentum curved the ribbon of magic back towards its caster.

_Finite._ Harry hurriedly clamped down on his will, and the Ribbon Slicer dissipated, thankfully only leaving a shallow graze on his forearm.

_And to think this is supposed to sever limbs. Bloody hell. But if I can get good at this…_

Obviously, a more practical (or even skill-appropriate) spell could have been learnt, but Harry' attention had been attracted to the animated images which showed a caster severing the limbs of several opponents at once.

_Well, I guess that's all for spell practice today._

Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, Harry sank down into a simple chair.

_And now for the plotting._

He was dimly aware that, apart from his usual morning routine with Neville, he had not really talked to anyone else casually for the past two weeks.

Reaching out a hand, he wandlessly Summoned his bookbag towards him from where it lay a few feet away.

_Good, at least this time it didn't smack me in the face._

From within, at the very bottom, he retrieved a small notebook (owl-ordered, sixteen Sickles) and reversed the simple Ink Invisibility Charm he had been using to keep his notes hidden.

After his conversating with the Hufflepuffs, Harry had kept to his word and actually given teaching Defense some thought. Apparently, the fact that Harry had been somewhat agreeable to teaching had already been spread around some, enough for Neville to have brought it up during one of their sessions.

With that, he had been busy researching more Secrecy Charms of the binding variety, as well as thinking over exactly where and who to teach.

There was pretty much only one option for the location.

_Not here – I'm going to need this place to myself. Maybe only as a last resort, but I have the feeling I haven't really plumbed the depths of what this Room can do yet. No, it's going to have to be a classroom._ _And I know a friendly teacher who'll probably let me use one._

The Divination classroom, or one of the Divination classrooms. And as for who he wanted in his little club…

_Those three Hufflepuffs – Ernie, Hannah, and Susan, I think. Neville, obviously. Not Ron or Hermione._

After a second mirror call to Sirius, his godfather had basically called him out for basically ignoring his best friends for the past four years, but Harry had remained stubborn. At this point, Harry sort of knew it was descending into spite for the sake of it, but…

_I can't let go. I just can't. _

He drew his mind back to present matters.

_Right. Not Ron or Hermione. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff…maybe a Ravenclaw?_

He briefly though about inviting Cho, but…

_Not after coming back on a Portkey with the dead body of her boyfriend. Nope, not a good idea at all._

There was only one Ravenclaw he felt friendly or comfortable enough with thus far. And whom he somewhat wanted to see again, for some strange reason.

_Luna Lovegood._

"Well, I guess that's good enough for now," Harry mused out loud to himself. Names, a location, and a list of spells had by now been doodled down in the notebook, the contents of which Harry turned invisible again with a wave of his wand.

He once again got the strange feeling of amusement, as if the very room he was in was reading his thoughts. It wasn't the first time, too – the same thing had happened plenty enough, usually after he had been trounced particularly badly by his training simulacrums.

_Nah._

Nevertheless, Harry still felt it was polite to at least ask, especially for the spells he wanted to perform next.

"Hey, Room," he said out loud, only feeling a little bit stupid. "Is it okay if I ward your entrance? I don't really want anyone else discovering this place, at least until I graduate."

There was no response.

_Oh well. I guess I'll just go ahead and do it._

He had all but cleaned up and was nearly at the door when a heavy tome appeared and landed on his big toe.

_Founders forbid, was that really necessary?_

Bending to pick up the book, he noted that it was open to a chapter titled "The Agreement of the Sages". Sighing, he closed it and put it back onto a nearby table which just materialized.

_Well, I guess that's a clear an answer as I'm ever going to get._

* * *

_This chapter took too damn long because I was trying to find a way to write Sirius without relying on the usual fanfic tropes (like calling Harry "pup"). On the plus side, Umbridge's inspection of Merry was fun._

_Rowling calls her Japanese magical school "Mahoutokoro", which literally means "magical place". It is the magical school equivalent of calling a boat Boaty McBoatface, except that I don't think Rowling was making an attempt at humour. Needless to say, I'll be using the term somewhat differently __(a__nd also ignoring _Cursed Child_ and the new movies__)._

_All the information about Tarot that Merry mentioned is true to the extent of my knowledge. The part about Crowley was inspired by _A Certain Magical Index_, New Testament Volume 18, though this is not a three–way crossover. _

_Not yet._

…

…

…

_I'm kidding._

_Review please!_


	7. Gathering the Curious

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

Marisa was going to teach DADA, but she failed her English test. So much for that, eh?

* * *

**Chapter 07 – Gathering the Curious From All Around Hogwarts**

"Professor Merry?"

It was the second Wednesday of September, and the morning Divination lesson had just concluded. Having told Neville to go on ahead first, Harry now approached his Divination Professor with some trepidation.

_It's not every day you ask a Professor to essentially help you with what might soon be illegal activities. _

"Yes, Mr Potter. I have foreseen your coming." The professor turned to Harry, and spoke in her distinct ethereal voice.

_She did say she wasn't a Seer, but I'm never really sure._

"I can indeed teach you Occlumency, if you still so wish. Monday, at seven p.m., in my office. Before that, there is some preparatory work you need to do." She waved her wand, and a piece of parchment floated over to Harry, who caught it–

_Hey, wait a second–_

"That is a pass for the Restricted Section, from which I would like you to borrow _Occlumency: The Hidden Arte_. It is a short book, so I would like you to read, or at least skim, all of it before our lesson."

Harry's mouth opened and closed several times, before he came to his senses. "Professor, that's not what I wanted to ask."

"No?" The Divination professor gave a small cough, holding up her hand to her mouth. "Give that back here, then."

_But I–_

Harry wanted to say he did want Occlumency lessons after all, when he was saved by Professor Usami.

"Stop playing around with the student, Merry." Professor Usami admonished. "As for you, Mr Potter, go ahead.

Harry found his voice. "Yes, professor. I wanted to ask if I could borrow the Divination classroom during the evenings."

The assistant professor raised an eyebrow. "For what purpose?"

"Er, to practice magic, professor. Um, and it's not just going to be me, either. There'll be a small group," Harry eked out lamely.

The professors exchanged a look, in which, Harry guessed, a silent conversation was held.

It was Merry who spoke next. "And you all plan to meet on a regular basis, like a club or society?"

"Yes, professor," Harry said carefully.

The professors shared another look.

"Well, then, go ahead. You have our permission." Renko nodded. "The second classroom, the one next to this, will be free for you and your club to use."

Harry mildly wanted to protest that it wasn't a club, but he decided not to say anything.

"Just so you know, we'll be putting up Monitoring Charms of our own, to make sure that no funny business is occurring. We trust that you're not going to abuse this privilege, Mr Potter." Merry followed up.

"Thanks. I mean, thank you, professors." Harry nodded. Inwardly, his thoughts were set more in grim determination.

_Good, the "where" is done._

"And if you're going to be teaching, Mr Potter, we would appreciate if you leave a note of which spells your club will be performing in the Charmed envelope behind the door."

_What! I didn't even _say_ I was teaching! Is she using Legilimency or something?_

Merry tapped her forehead and gave a small smile. "I will see you on Monday evening in this classroom, Mr Potter. If you wish to be discreet about it, I find remedial Divination to be a good enough excuse."

Recognising the dismissal, Harry left.

~~[q]~~

"There goes a troubled young man," Merry mused.

"No less troubled than we were at that age," Renko shrugged back, still moving around to tidy the classroom. "Did you really have to tease him like that?"

"Yeah, yeah," Merry pouted back. "Don't be such a spoilsport, Renko."

Renko sighed. "No wonder Reimu says you and Yukari are more alike than–" She broke off as a distinct aura of foreboding instantly settled on her. "Right. Sorry."

When no reply was forthcoming, Renko turned around to spot a dark expression on her partner's face. "Merry? You still angry about the Yakumo?"

"You know I'm always unhappy about the Yakumo," Merry joked, but only half in jest. "Not about that. The border…the border around Harry Potter is different from other students."

"Different how?" After several long years together, Renko knew better than to make pointless statements like "are you sure you aren't just seeing things?"

"It's just different. I can't put my finger on it, but it reminds me of…something." Merry lifted a finger, and put it back down. "I just can't think of it at the moment."

~~[q]~~

_Let's see_… _Orreries Sun: Advanced Astro…no, not you…_ _Origins of Thelema: Crowley's Ma…nope._

Harry ran a hand down the row of books, savouring the way the spines bumped against his fingers.

_Oriental Dark Fl…nope. Offerings of…An Ode to…Occlumency: The Hidden Arte…there it is._

True to what Professor Merry said, it was not a thick tome of any kind. Rather, the unassuming book, had the title letters not been printed in gold (now fading), looked more like somebody's personal diary than anything, albeit a fancy black leather-bound one.

Harry was about to pull it out when a pale hand reached forward and rested on it. Following the hand up the arm, his eyes now rested on a pale-looking girl with messy dark-brown hair.

_Green trim…a Slytherin?_

"I found this first, so you're going to have to wait," Harry said evenly. Inasmuch as he hadn't dealt with many other Slytherins other than Draco Malfoy and the Quidditch team, all of those cases still hadn't given him a good impression of the house.

_Then again, neither did everyone else when I was outed as a Parselmouth. Or when I became a Triwizard Tournament champion. _

He did not miss the way the girl's eyes flashed upwards at his scar, and he swore inwardly as he realized he forgot to apply his usual charms.

Her grip tightened on the book, and she stared defiantly up at Harry.

_Merlin's ballsack, I can't believe I have to deal with this so early in the day. _

"I said," Harry continued, now with barely concealed irritation, "you're going to have to _wait_." At the final word, he pushed a bit of magic into his action, and yanked the book forcefully to his side.

With a twitch, the girl's hand withdrew, as if the book had suddenly been burning hot.

"Occlumency and wandless magic." The girl spat the words at him, albeit quietly. "Someone's _preparing_."

_Enough of this._

Drawing his wand, Harry traced a circle over his head, then stared down the angry Slytherin girl. "_Silencio Circumta_. Of course I'm preparing. I'm going to come after _your master_ and pay back him back for _everything_ he's made me suffer." He stepped forward and planted himself eye to eye with the girl.

Visualizing Slytherin's basilisk in his head (for it was a good a snake as any at the moment), he hissed at the girl. "_She sells sea shells by the sea shore."_

The girl involuntarily took a few steps back, although her eyes were still burning with anger.

"The rumors from the upper years were true, huh? But you're not the only one who's suffered because of him, Potter! And some of us will lose no matter which side wins anyway!"

She drew her wand, and seemed to be on the verge of firing off a curse before she seemingly remembered that they were in a library. With a final snarl, she turned tail and ran.

_Tch, she better not blab to the Slytherins. Or worse, Umbridge. _

Worse still, he had another lesson soon, so he didn't even have the freedom to head to the Room and blast conjured furniture to pieces.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

_And then _this_ girl always seems to have impeccable timing_.

"Luna Lovegood." Harry turned around and greeted.

"Harry Potter." Luna nodded back. "You look like you were trying to set the books on fire with your mind. Which is not very nice, because the books never did anything to you."

"They screamed at me back in First Year," Harry shrugged back. "Hey, since you're here…hmm, wait a sec." With his wand already out, Harry added the now-_very- _familiar Notice-me-not Charm to himself, while Luna watched impassively, then opened his mouth to speak.

Unfortunately, he did that _before_ his brain had the chance to supply the appropriate words.

"I notice you didn't actually say yes or no when I asked if you were all right." Luna remarked, when Harry failed to form coherent words.

"I uh," Harry mumbled.

_Keep it together, Harry._

"Right. Sorry." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm forming a club where we can all practice Defence, since Umbridge is being, er, useless. Do you want to come?"

"Harry Potter forms a club," Luna hummed to herself. "Why invite me, though?"

_Why invite you, indeed. What did you say the last time? About being a person that convinced me that I was still sane?_

"It's going to be an adventure." Harry said, with a faint smile. He ran a hand through his messy hair. "Since I'm not going to have any idea what I'm doing."

_Wait a moment, that's not what I wanted to say!_

"That's very honest of you, Harry." Luna smiled at him.

"Well, I did say that I was going to invite you to any more adventures. Figured this'll be one of them."

_Now that is what I should have said in the first place._

"You did say that," Luna nodded back. "I'm happy, Harry. When's the first meeting?"

_And now_ _Luna's being direct for once. I think I'm a few cards short of a deck here._

"Friday, eight o'clock. The second Divination classroom." As Harry raised a hand to rub his head again, he caught sight of his watch, which told him he was going to be late for Transfiguration if he didn't hurryup and leave now. "Right, I need to go!" He swore silently further as he realized he still hadn't checked out _The Hidden Arte_.

As she watched Harry leave in a hurry, Luna shook her head, a small smile on her face.

~~[q]~~

Arriving in a huff to the Transfiguration classroom, Harry looked around wildly for a seat before spotting the friendly face of Neville, who patted the chair next to his. Wincing at Professor McGonagall's stern expression at his near-lateness, he slid into his seat.

In between bouts of intoning "Evanesco" at his mouse, Harry told Neville about the Club.

"Good," Neville nodded, looking eager. "What're we going to learn first?"

"Forget about spells, the first thing is teach everyone how to keep a secret," Harry grumbled. "The Hufflepuffs need to learn how to not spread stuff around." Harry glanced around. "Also, McGonagall's looking this way, cast something."

"_Evanesco,"_ Neville said forcefully. His grey mouse became mildly paler, but did not vanish.

Harry frowned. From vague memories, he knew that Neville's family had been on the verge of believing that Neville was a Squib before he had finally showed signs of magic.

_But he aces the class in Herbology. Hell, he could probably do well in Potions if Snape wasn't such an nasty git. _

Putting aside the beginnings to an as-yet-unformed train of thought, Harry focused on his own mouse, which was brown.

_Listen to the call. Connect to your magic. Gently shape the universe to your liking._

_Everything is the same, except this mouse, which is now gone._

"_Evanesco."_ Harry intoned.

The mouse disappeared completely.

"Woah, since when did you get this good?" Neville said, surprised at Harry's results.

"Since…I don't know?" Harry hesitantly replied. It was at this moment where Professor McGonagall swept over and noted the distinct lack of rodents in the tray in front of Harry.

"Five points to Gryffindor for being the first to completely Vanish your mouse, Mr Potter." The Professor said, approval loud and clear in her voice. In slightly lower tones, she directed her next words at Harry. "It is good to see you finally applying yourself for once." She swept away.

Unnoticed by Harry, but quietly noted by Neville, Hermione was now shooting him looks bordering between curiosity and jealousy.

"So, how did you do it?" Neville asked, trying to sound casual.

"Professor Merry, I mean Hearn's, meditation." Harry said slowly. "It's about…finding your magic, then using it to change the world. I think."

Neville still looked doubtful, but he still settled into the distant look of someone trying to peer within themselves.

By the lesson's end, Harry, who had enjoyed good progress with mice, found that kittens were much more _persistent_, while Neville had only a tail and a pair of tiny whiskers left to deal with.

"Lunch? I'm starving."

"Lunch." Neville nodded.

"Just a minute though, I'm going to put this on. _Prasentia L–_ "

Unfortunately, Harry's casting of the one Charm that would have allowed them to make a clean getaway was interrupted by none other than Hermione Granger, who was now striding over with a stony expression on her face.

"Harry! Get back here!"

_Notice-me-not doesn't bloody work if somebody's already paying attention to you. Damn it._

"Hello, Hermione." Despite his irritation, Harry tried his best to keep his voice level.

"Harry, what's going on with you? You've been avoiding us for two whole weeks already, and you're suddenly an ace at Transfiguration? If I find out you've been doing something illegal–"

"It's called practicing and studying, Hermione." Harry wearily said. "I think you already know what those words mean."

"Stop trying to be funny!" Hermione's eyes were now beginning to shine with tears, and she lowered her voice somewhat. "Is this like with the Diary? Have you been–"

_Really, the moment I become better than you at something, you immediately think I'm possessed?_

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Harry held up a warning finger, his voice now cold as the winter wind. "I don't understand why you keep bothering me when I've already told you to _leave me alone_."

"But–"

Harry tuned out the rest of her words as he pushed his mind to figure out a way to disengage from the situation. He was on the verge of simply Stunning her, damn the consequences, when he heard Neville's low, quiet murmur.

"The moment she's distracted, do your thing on the both of us and we can get out of here."

_Neville?_

But Harry's friend had quietly taken out his wand, and a single incantation, fresh from recent memory, was on his lips.

"_Evanesco_."

Harry's mouth dropped open in sheer shock.

Mid-rant, Hermione's blouse vanished, to reveal what lay beneath. Naturally, pandemonium instantly ensued.

Pausing for only the briefest of moments to savour the view, Harry quickly drew his wand, focusing with laser precision on the expression of his once-close friend.

In the instant where Hermione's eyes darted downward, Harry casted, bringing all of his intention to bear. He had never casted the Charm on anyone else before, let alone two people at once, but he desperately _needed_ this to work.

_Right, I want nothing more than to NOT BE SEEN right now. Me and Neville. Not be seen. NOT BE SEEN!_

"_Praesentia Litura_." With an expenditure of will and magic, the Boy-Who-Lived erased two presences from the corridor, and they made their escape down to the Great Hall where lunch awaited.

~~[q]~~

The two boys were silent as they ate, before Harry spoke the first thoughts that came to his mind.

"Merlin, Nev, you really must have wanted to see under Hermione's shirt."

He turned and looked at Neville's reddening face, before the both of them burst out into laughter.

"My gran's going to crucify me. I'm probably going to get detention." Neville's head drooped slightly, even though his shoulders were still shaking slightly. "I don't even know why I did that."

Harry gave a lopsided grin. "You know, if you had a crush on Hermione, I could have–"

"Shut up, Harry." Neville spoke. His forehead was now to the table, his hair dangerously close to receiving a treatment of mashed potato.

"All the same, I appreciate what you did back there."

"It was nothing." Neville's voice was still muffled, on account of him still speaking to his knees.

"Nothing, eh?" A new voice spoke up.

"I would say, brother of mine, that took some serious bollocks–"

"Big brass ones, maybe."

Harry nodded at the arrival of the Weasley twins, who had each given Neville a clap on the back.

"So, does Hogwarts need to be on the lookout now–"

"–for this newly awakened beast?"

Harry looked over at Neville, who had not moved from his facedown position. "I highly doubt it, but you might want to keep an eye out or two."

There was a round of chuckles.

"Jolly good, Harry."

"It looks like the legacy of pranking is in safe hands."

"With that said, ickle Harrikins–" The twin's voices became a notch more serious.

"Our younger brother, Ron, wishes to enquire if you're still rightly poshed at him."

Harry looked from Fred to George's (or George's to Fred's) face. Recalling the words he had seen on a toy a while back, he gave his response deadpan. "Outlook not so good."

The twins glanced at each other. "Right-o."

"Understood."

"Also, we thought it might behoove you to know–"

"–that our sister dearest has made Seeker–"

"–and an absolute git nearly beat out our brother for Keeper."

"Duly noted with thanks." Harry said dully. It wasn't as if he cared much about Quidditch at this point, but it still wouldn't be polite to say that to the face of others.

"Anyway, we got to run, but–"

"–don't be a stranger, Harry."

Snapping off simultaneous mock salutes, which Harry returned, the twins departed, only to be replaced with a swish of tartan distinctive of Gryffindor's Head of House.

_Oh, great._

~~[q]~~

The rest of the week passed without incident, except for Neville's detention with McGonagall, in which he was forced to clean up the droppings of all the animals used during the lessons.

Now, as eight o'clock drew closer, Harry made his way to the second Divination classroom, and found it unlocked. Immediately, he set to shifting and stacking furniture off to the sides, aided by some wandless, wordless magic.

Or at least, a bit of it. It didn't come as easily as it did the first time, or even during the times he had practiced in the Room of Requirement, but it came nonetheless, with plenty of banging and scraping as he forced the desks and chairs into a sort-of neat stack.

Off to the side lay a small stack of cushioned mats, and affixed was a note.

_Thought this might be useful for your club meetings. The Combat Magic teachers back at Suzunone High always laid them out when they were teaching Stuns or rolls. _

_Remember, no funny business._

– _Your club sponsors_

Harry shoved the note in his pocket.

_Suzunone High? Must be where the Professors used to teach or something_.

He filed the tidbit away as the club members began to arrive: Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Ernie Macmillan, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbott.

One by one, they arrived, and sat on the chairs that Harry laid out beforehand in a small circle. Yes, it was a small group, but the classroom was not especially big, which meant that they would not feel dwarfed, which was good.

When all of them were present, Harry began to speak.

"Well, thanks for coming down here," he started. All five of them were staring at him intently, now.

_No going back now, I suppose. Time to get myself together._

"We all know that Umbridge has been crap at teaching Defence." This got a nod from Ernie, and a chuckle from Luna and Susan. "Which is why we're taking matters into our own hands."

As Harry spoke, he began to sound more confident.

"But I think there's a more important reason than passing OWLs, which I think all of you got a glimpse of last year, at the–" Harry found his voice about to crack, but he took a deep breath and steadied himself, "at the end of the Triwizard Tournament."

_Graveyard. Green light. Cruciatus Curse._

"There no other way to say it: Voldemort is back."

He saw Neville and Hannah flinch at the name; Susan's and Ernie's expressions tightened.

"He's back, and that's why we should learn to fight." Harry took another breath, and spoke the truth from the depths of his heart. "I'll be serious with all of you: to face him, or even to face Death Eaters, all of whom want nothing but to kill, capture, or torture you – at that time, in the place where I saw Voldemort build himself a new body? I was scared out of my mind, and nothing, really nothing, could have prepared me for that."

"But that's why I'm volunteering to teach." Harry continued. "Not just to give the finger to Umbridge, even though it's a nice reason by itself. It's to try and prepare others, so that when the time comes, even if you're scared, you can fight it, and become a little braver, a little faster, and a little stronger. That's all."

Silence reigned over the room, before Luna began clapping. Before long, all five of them were applauding.

Harry held up a hand, and they stopped. "Alright, let's make it official. I know Hannah was the one that initially suggested I teach, but for formality's sake–"

"Yes, Harry, you're the leader of this whole thing." Susan spoke up, to more chuckles again. "I suppose everyone agrees?" When no objections were forthcoming, Ernie shrugged. "I guess that settles it."

"Right, since I'm officially the leader, the first order of business, as I said, is for everyone to sign this." Harry brandished the scroll that he had been working on in the Room.

"You want everyone to write down their names?" Ernie narrowed his eyes. "If this list was found–"

"I've been working on this the entire week. It's a magical contract of sorts; whoever signs it won't be allowed to even accidentally blab about this, which means it'll keep you safe, as well. It even extends to things like Legilimency, which Snape and Dumbledore know–"

"Wait, a magical contract?" Susan spoke in alarm. "And Snape is a Legilimens?"

Harry nodded savagely. "Yeah. Professor Merry told me."

The Hufflepuffs exchanged a glance. "Well, this complicates matters. Anyway, give it here; I've seen a bit of contract law from my Father's books, I can figure this out." Ernie gestured for the scroll, which Harry handed over.

He found himself looking into Neville's steady gaze. "You do know that magical contracts are serious business, right?"

"Yeah." Harry met Neville's look with equal measure.

"My Gran always said…well…but I trust you." To the Hufflepuffs, Neville gestured. "Give it here. I'm signing it. Anyone have a quill?"

There was a patting of pockets before Luna retrieved what looked like a parrot-feather quill from her bag. "Huh," Neville remarked. In any case, he signed his same steadily, then passed it to his left to Luna, who also signed without protest.

"Ernie–"

"I'll sign it." Susan spoke. "If Harry's going to be teaching us, it's fair to respect his wishes. The words of the contract are also reasonable." She looked up at him. "I hope I'm not making a mistake trusting you, Harry."

Harry gave a single nod. "All it does is to prevent you from accidentally or deliberately revealing the existence of the club, which includes hiding it in your mind now that I know mind reading is possible with magic."

After Susan signed, the other two Hufflepuffs followed suit, and the lesson began.

"The first spell we're going over is the Disarming Charm, _Expelliarmus_."

"Really? Something that elementary?" Ernie piped up.

Harry smirked. With a quick flick of his wand, Ernie's wand was sent flying, and Harry snatched it out of the air, bringing two wands down to point squarely at Ernie's chest. "Sometimes the basics are the best."

"I'm starting to regret my decision to come," Ernie grumbled, good-naturedly.

* * *

_Vanishing clothes to make a distraction is one of those things that just seem like the logical conclusion of what happens when you need a distraction and the Vanishing Spell is fresh in your mind._

_Jealous Hermione, while generally exaggerated in fanfics, is not baseless; see the end of chapter nine in _Half-Blood Prince_ for the canon example. With that said, she really didn't deserve what was done to her here._

_Harry is being kind of a dick to someone who was once one of his best friends. Then again, he's not a perfect human being. _

_Not all mysterious Slytherins are Daphne Greengrass._

_Review please!_


	8. Heartfelt Fancy

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

Chapters are now preparing. Please wait warmly until they are ready.

* * *

**Chapter 08 – Heartfelt Fancy**

The third Monday of September came without much fanfare. The first meeting of the as-yet-unnamed club had gone smoothly, and Harry thought that Impediment Jinxes could be started on the coming week.

Still, peace was never the natural state of affairs at Hogwarts. With Harry's surprising docility towards Umbridge (at least, from the second lesson on, where he had learnt the neat trick of hiding whatever he wanted to read inside _Defensive Magical Theory_), and his resignation from the Quidditch team, the vitriol towards him had diminished somewhat, to be replaced by a sort of almost morbid curiosity.

_Still bloody annoying how Umbridge tries to get a rise out of me every lesson, but at least she's slowing down. Besides, it's not as if I'm shouting my head off about Voldemort's return any more._

Toad-faced teachers aside, Harry had other problems to deal with, some of which were harder than others.

Potions, for one. While Harry was beginning to excel in all his wand-based subjects, improved theory stemming from his more extensive reading, the presence of Snape and the lack of one Hermione Granger meant that his grade in Potions was suffering. Surprisingly, it was Hannah Abbott that put forth several sensible suggestions and tips, after one particularly frustrating study session on Sunday night.

"You say you always misread the instructions, so why don't you just _copy them down _where you can see them easier?" The clear exasperation in her voice was leagues different from the meekness she normally exhibited. "And you," Hannah jabbed her finger at Neville, who shrank back at the sudden ferocity, "need to stop jumping every time Snape twitches!"

Neville could only awkwardly scratch his head in embarrassment.

_Wow, I guess people are really different when talking about something they're passionate about._

The second, something Harry hoped to solve soon with "remedial Divination", was the dreams. Somehow, it seemed that simply being back at Hogwarts was beginning to take the edge off, not to mention both the physical and magical exercise, but there were times that Harry still woke up with Cedric Diggory's dead body in his eyes and a silent scream in his throat. There was also the endless corridor, in a place that he had never been before, full of orbs of white smoke.

Everything went in the dream diary. The _true_ dream diary, that is, under a Locking Charm and a few layers of Befuddlement Hexes that Harry had managed to scrounge up, that would never see the light of day in an ordinary lesson.

Weeks earlier, Harry had been hesitant to share his nightmares with the Divination Professors. But now, with everything that had happened, he felt as if they had gained some measure of his trust.

(That, and he had checked the Marauder's Map one evening, just to make sure they weren't a pair of Polyjuiced impostors. After the Moody incident the previous year, any sane person would think to take some simple precautions.)

Besides, they were going to read his mind, so there would be no point trying to hide anything, right?

As Harry neared the door of the Divination office, he saw two students being ushered out. Scraps of conversation floated down to him.

"No, Mr Boot, transformation magic does not work that way, even in Japan." There was a laugh, which appeared to be from Renko. "Miss Li, if you want a magical costume you'll have to sew it yourself. But your other ideas seem sound; I'll be happy to meet with both of you again. Now off you go!"

The departing pair of students seemed to be in high spirits, and were laughing and jabbing at each other jokingly. As they passed Harry, the boy gave a friendly nod, while the girl flashed him a quick smile, both in greeting. Harry nodded back slightly awkwardly, not really recognizing their faces, while noting the blue trim on their robes.

"I swear, some of these students have the weirdest ideas," Renko seemed to be saying. "Well then, I'm off. Tell me if anything happens, alright?"

"Yes, yes," Merry's voice sounded from inside the office. "Don't worry."

"Mr Potter," the Assistant Professor turned and greeted Harry, touching the brim of her hat. "Professor Merry is waiting. Good luck and remember to relax." With that said, Renko turned and left, and Harry entered the office to meet a smiling Merry.

~~[q]~~

"Occlumency," Merry said in lieu of a greeting, once she shut the door. "You would think that with such a convenient field of magic around, people would be rolling over to learn it, correct? Organizing your thoughts, improving your memory, making yourself think clearer and faster…"

Harry nodded automatically.

"Well, know that the mind is a complicated and dangerous thing to read. Do you know of the magical species called the _satori_?"

Harry shook his head _no_.

"The _satori_ are a species of youkai that exist back in magical Japan. In their wild form they resemble apes that walk on two legs, with fur all over their bodies. More normally, their resemble humans, just with an extra eye."

Harry pictured an ugly man like a Cyclopes, with a third eye resting on its forehead. His expression must have shown on his face, because Merry stood and retrieved a book from one of the office's overflowing bookshelves.

"_Records of the Symposium of Post-Mysticism…_Part 4…Komeji…here it is." Propping up the open book on her knee, like a storyteller reading to a group of children, Merry showed Harry the picture.

The satori, dressed in an old-fashioned blouse and skirt, could easily have passed off as a young woman, if not for the "third eye", which rested at her breast like a necklace, connected by swirling cords of purple. Unfamiliar runes lined the rest of the page.

Harry looked back up at Merry.

"_Satori_ have the ability to hear thoughts or intentions, much like how we can hear sounds with our ears. _However,_ much like our ears, this ability can't be turned off, unlike how you can close your eyes to stop seeing. This led to enough distress for one of them that she forcibly closed her Third Eye."

_That doesn't sound so bad._

Merry looked at Harry's expression, and saw fit to elaborate. "In human terms, it would be like taking a stick and puncturing your eardrums because you couldn't stand hearing sounds any longer."

_Never mind._

"That is one of the dangers of mind magic. And in case you think such is irrelevant because that person isn't a human, you can imagine what happens when a human, _without_ the natural ability to read minds gains such an ability through Legilimency, then becomes unable to turn it off."

Merry allowed a moment a silence for the implications to sink in before continuing.

"There are whole wards in magical hospitals devoted to the care of those who ran afoul of the mind magics they were practicing. Legilimencers who thought they were other people after reading too many minds. Occlumencers who tried enhancing their speed of thought, and end up having to watch a second pass by in ten years while still having the physical capabilities of a normal human, forever trapped in a world perpetually slowed."

Another pause.

"This is why the texts on mind magics are restricted, and why you cannot learn mind magic out of a book alone, not without risks. Even the beginner texts represent a gateway to great potential harm to oneself. But," Merry held up a finger, "if you are careful, and you have the supervision of a teacher, there is no need to worry."

_After what was said, I think there is a Real Need To Worry, but I don't see any other way to catch up to Voldemort and stop these damn nightmares. It's time._

"Now, do you have any questions before we begin?"

"No, professor."

Merry frowned. "Are you sure, Harry? Do you not even want to ask more about what we're going to be doing first? It's not good to just accept everything, especially after I told you that the magics we'll be learning will be dangerous."

_That's a good point, but…_

"I trust you, Professor." Harry said simply.

"Even so, Mr Potter." Merry gave a soft sigh. "It's not good to just blindly accept everything. But thank you." Her face softened. "Now, do you want to begin with the theoretical, or the practical?"

"Definitely the practical, Professor." Harry said quickly.

"I th-foresaw that it might go either way, Mr Potter. Well then, we shall begin with learning to grasp mental intrusions; to feel the shape of them in one's mind. I am afraid that this is something only learnt through practice, so prepare yourself." Merry raised her wand.

_Wait, wha–_

"_Legilimens!_"

It was not only memories, but thoughts as well: the worries over getting strong enough to face Voldemort, and the training in the Room of Requirement; the recurring nightmares of the graveyard and the endless corridor; the concerns over what he was going to teach the club.

Then the images receded, revealing Merry's concerned face. "Are you all right, Mr Potter?"

"Yeah," Harry shook himself. "Just caught unawares. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise; you're here to learn, after all." Merry shook her head. "That was the _Legilimens_: the mind-reading spell. As for what you might have witnessed, I was specifically targeting 'what you have been most concerned about the past few days'."

_That means she saw…ah, crap._

"No worries, Mr Potter. Now, I am going to do it again. This time, try to _feel_ when my magic intrudes upon your mind. From what I have seen–and I am sorry to use your own memories against you, in a manner of speaking–you hold considerable talent for wandless magic, so this should not pose a problem to you."

Harry nodded to himself.

"Remember, aim to _feel_. I know you can do it. _Legilimens!"_

A different set of images played: his wonder at seeing Diagon Alley for the first time, the feeling of the wind in his hair as he flew, the elation that he had a Godfather who wanted to take him in–

_Got to focus, got to focus!_ Harry frantically thought, but as much as he looked within himself, he couldn't feel it, couldn't catch the foreign magic that he _knew_ should be present because Merry had cast a spell–

"Mr Potter." The professor's voice cut across his panic.

_Oh no, I didn't even notice she ended the spell! How am I even going to learn Occlumency if I can't even–_

"Look up." At the clear and precise command, Harry's head snapped upwards, only to find himself breathing in a strange mist. In her hands, Professor Merry held an ordinary spray bottle, like the ones Harry himself had used to water his aunt's plants.

"Calming draught." She answered the unasked question. "Very diluted, but sometimes the placebo effect is strong enough on its own. A little bit of psychology comes into handy once in a while."

Harry felt himself nod automatically as the professor returned to her "teacher's voice".

"You know, my first instinct was to coddle you. Give you some tea and biscuits, tell you that everything will be fine, distract you with theory and go slowly. Things to that effect. I think that's what even Renko would have thought I'd do."

Harry looked back at Merry's face.

"But I think you wouldn't want that, would you?" Merry met his gaze with an unyielding one of her own. "You and I and Renko know that sometimes, for certain things, there is _no other way_ out, and that you can only rely on yourself."

_Like being swarmed by a hundred Dementors with no adult you can call for help. Like being down in the Chamber with nothing but the Sorting Hat and a phoenix._

"Do you understand what I am telling you?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Good. I won't say anything dramatic like 'show me what you're made of', but…come. Let us walk this path of mastery together." Merry drew herself into a casting stance, and Harry's instinctively snapped to the same. "Get ready. Feel that presence in your mind. Repel it. _Legilimens!"_

It was easily one of the most gruelling lessons Harry had ever went through, demanding in a different way from when he pit himself against the simulations. Mind magic, by definition, involves the mind, and thus all of its complexity and complications embedded within. It was something similar to needing to remember a word while solving several mathematical equations quickly, while also _simultaneously_ trying to detach yourself from the shame you feel while reliving your most embarrassing memories.

Nevertheless, Harry was equal to the task; with every _Legilimens_ sent his way, he ruthlessly and relentlessly scoured his own mind for the foreign magic, even as flashes of memory played, unprovoked, in his mind's eye. To him, it felt like searching for a transparent fish at the bottom of the ocean.

At the end of two hours, Harry was trembling, and a sheen of cold sweat could be seen on his brow. He did not even notice himself sitting down, when the professor looped around and slid a chair under him.

"And that concludes our first Occlumency lesson, I think." Professor Merry was now bustling over at a table, and returned with two cups…of green tea. "Drink up; mind magic is a severely draining business."

Harry drank automatically. His ability to form coherent thoughts had deserted him a while back, and it would not return for several minutes.

In the meantime, Merry spoke in a conversational tone. "Back in Japan, I never drank green tea often, since I preferred western-style tea. But now that I'm over in Britain, I find myself wanting something that reminds me of home. It's quite amusing."

Harry's ingrained protocol of politeness, literally beat into him by the Dursleys, nodded Harry's head.

Silence reigned as Merry took a sip. "It's quite a paradox: you apparently have enough raw potential and instinct to perform wandless magic within a single week of learning about it, and yet the simplest task of sensing the magic of others, in the domain of your very own mind, remains opaque to you. I'm not really sure what to say, except that you might have the opposite of talent with regards to the Mind Arts. Even as you learned how to control your own emotions better, it seems to be in your nature to be honest, in one way or another."

Another pause; another sip.

And then Harry suddenly spoke. "Professor, will the nightmares start to get better?"

Merry sighed. "Not immediately. In fact, it might get worse first, because the session probably freshly reactivated a lot of mental pathways corresponding to bad memories. But once you get more comfortable with laying magic in your mind, you can put down some structure, which will help abate the worst of the negative emotions. The exercises are described later on in _The Hidden Arte_, and I give you permission to continue as you see fit."

Harry nodded, and realised that his teacup was empty. "Thank you for today, Professor."

"Don't worry about it. Like what Renko–Professor Usami– and I said previously: our door is always open. And to tell you the truth, there are numerous students with personal problems whom I am helping, and which I am not at liberty to name. Stress, homesickness, loneliness…and from my experience, it's worse for, should I say, _prominent_ figures in society." She paused, as if recounting a memory. "Have a good rest, Mr Potter. I shall see you in class."

~~[q]~~

The week passed, as it was beginning to be customary, in a haze of schoolwork, the only change being that the Nameless Club was starting to sit together a bit more often in the library. While things were relatively smooth, it wasn't exactly peachy, not all the time.

"Will you stop casting that spell?" Ernie hissed over at Harry under his breath. He was beginning to suspect that their leader had some unholy obsession with Notice-Me-Not Charms, for it always seemed to be on every table they sat at.

"Sorry, force of habit." Harry mumbled.

"Oh, lay off him," Susan spoke up. "Even celebrities need their privacy sometimes."

"Hey!"

Harry's indignant reaction set off some chuckles in the group.

Attempting to change the subject, Harry turned to the girl on his left, whom he noticed was attempting to write with a slightly broken quill. Again.

_Something else that needs doing._

Trying to sound as casual as possible, he spoke quietly. "Luna, are…"

_It's not going to work if you ask her outright. _Harry's instinct spoke to him, and he cut off his sentence. _I need to…work around. _

"Yes?" The cherubic blonde gave him a bright look.

"Luna, are…have your shoes still been, uh, journeying away on their own?"

The girl looked back down at her schoolwork. "Occasionally. A few other things, too. Why do you ask so suddenly?"

"No real reason," Harry said hastily.

Luna went back to her essay. Harry, however, began to plot.

_But how do I even start? Even the Hufflepuffs_... Harry was not the best at social navigation, but he did see things, like how the Hufflepuffs tended to group together, and how Neville was related by way of the Gardening Club, leaving himself and Luna to be somewhat odd ducks. It was actually a wonder how Harry could have established leadership at all, even if he was the one teaching them Defense.

_They probably won't stand up for her. It'll probably be something like "just report it to the Prefects", and she'll probably be targeted even more afterward._ Harry tried not to sound too bitter even in his own head, even as he recalled his time in primary school.

_Time to recruit some Ravenclaws?_ It was a wild idea, but Harry thought that maybe an alternative perspective would be useful. _They'll probably know more spells. And if I could deal with Hermione for four years, well, there shouldn't be a problem._

_Aside from the fact that I haven't interacted with any of them apart from Quidditch. And even then it's unlikely that they'll be what I'm looking for…wait, am I actually looking for something?_

"Urgh," Harry said out loud.

"Harry?" Neville spoke up from his right. "Something wrong?"

"Nah, just thinking. About things."

Neville nodded simply and went back to his book. His quiet dependability was one of the things Harry had grown to appreciate from his friend since the start of term, a far contrast to the constantly bickering Ron and Hermione.

Idly, Harry noted the book in front of him, which seemed to be depicting a man slowly rotting away at the foot of a black, leafless tree, in the centre of a dense, dark forest. The top of the page held the a caption in bold: _GERMANY – The Forest of Einnarshe_.

Looking back at his friend's face carefully, he ventured a question. "Is this going to be in OWLs?"

The round-faced boy shook his head, looking slightly embarrassed. "Not really. I'm actually taking a break right now."

Susan spoke up again. "For your information, Harry, _Flesh-Eating Trees of the World_ is a NEWT-level text." There was a teasing grin on her face.

Harry looked from the book, to her, and finally to an abashed-looking Neville. Putting on his straightest face, he gave a stoic reply.

"I don't see the problem."

"Thanks, Harry–"

"But _you_ might want to burn any potted plants Neville gets you for Christmas, just to be safe."

Susan let out a snort as Neville stared woodenly at Harry in response.

* * *

Symposium of Post-Mysticism _was first mentioned as existing back in Chapter 4 as one of the books in Merry's office. In-universe, it is the minutes of a dialog between some of the most prominent figures in Gensokyo. In our world, a translation is available on the English Touhou Wiki (the one ending with "net", not the dammned wikia).  
_

_I've also heard that "Einnarshe" is spelt "Ainnash" these days, but eh, it's just a bit of flavor text._

_Review please!_


	9. Between the Lines 1

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club and Yakumo Yukari are the creations of ZUN.

* * *

**Between the Lines 1**

_Hogwarts' Headmaster's Office  
Before the start of term  
_

Albus Dumbledore was very, very tired, though his exhaustion could not be traced back to any singular thing. He was old, and his days of fighting on the front lines, as he had once done against Grindelwald, were now very much behind him.

Perhaps, he thought, it was much better that he had been sacked from some of his positions. For a while now the constant games of the delegates over at the ICW had grated on his nerves, and so had the blood politics over at the Wizengamot which he had unsuccessfully tried to change.

Perhaps, he thought, he might just take this chance to retire–but how could he, when the spectre of Voldemort loomed over the horizon?

How he sorely wished he could just go out and fight one more time, to ward off evil with his hands, _his own hands_, again, one more time.

But it wasn't so simple. He was old, and even if he could, he was not longer sure if he should. People…grew complacent, if they thought there would always be a hero around to fix their mistakes. And so the mistakes grew, compounded, until it would have been better if a flood had came and washed all their sins away.

But Albus Dumbledore was never the kind of person to be so ruthless.

There was also the issue of the prophecy surrounding young Harry Potter. Whether it was by karmic fate or just sheer human irony, the possibility of events that Sybill Trelawney had spoke into the world was now going to be realized.

Again, his own mercy, of not telling young Harry the prophecy, of not putting the burden on his shoulders, of not preparing him enough…might become their undoing.

And now, even Trelawney herself had been attacked, and only bare fortune itself had saved her from Voldemort's clutches. He supposed that in her unconscious state, she was actually safer, since now she could not be interrogated.

_And then,_ there was still the matter of the Diary, just another piece of evidence that Voldemort had gone further down a dark road than he himself had ever imagined.

He leaned back in his chair at the Hogwarts' Headmaster's Office and sighed. There was much to do, and yet he could not, in this moment, muster energy to do them.

"Bee in your bonnet, Brian?"

"Yukari." The foreign name, even after all these years, rolled of his tongue a bit awkwardly.

"May I come in? Of course, if you would prefer, we can simply continue this conversation while I stand in this precariously generated rend in reality–"

"_Do come in, Mistress Yakumo._"

There was an impression of purple, glowing eyes, and red ribbons, and then the most powerful woman in Magical Japan stepped forth, and sat down in the armchair opposite Dumbledore's.

"My, my, you sure are in a mood today, Brian." Yukari held up her fan to her face, obscuring the coy smile that Dumbledore nevertheless knew was present.

"You know me, Yukari."

In there was a curious bond, forged in the fire that was Grindelwald's War, of intelligence about nuclear weapons and boundary fields that had saved hundreds, nay, _thousands_, of magicals, both youkai and human alike.

(The denizens of Magical Japan had long ago learnt the perils of rampant expansionism by the failure of the First Lunar Invasion and the deaths of Yasora Kojiwa and Kamiyama Konngara. Sadly, their Muggle counterparts had not.)

"So, what can I do for you? Erase a Dark Lord from existence?"

Dumbledore jolted upright. "You know?"

"Of course I know. I have eyes and ears everywhere."

"Greenwich? Carlton Gardens?"

"Not telling." Yukari pointed her fan at Dumbledore. "Really, what _do_ you need, Brian? I've known you for half your life, perhaps more. I've seen you go from hero to paragon to old meddler. _Surely_ you can be straightforward with me?"

"Whereas I, for everything that I've been through, have only seen you in the role of meddler." Dumbledore sighed again, exasperation and weariness in his voice.

"The benefits of seniority. Now, out with it."

"I need to borrow two teachers. One for Defence Against the Dark Arts, and one for Divination."

It was Yukari's turn to sigh. "Really, Brian? You would have me put one of my acquaintances in a cursed position?"

Dumbledore blanched. "I apologise, Yukari, I did not mean offence."

"Bah, none taken. Fortunately, I do indeed have two people I can send. _However,_" and there was another jab of the fan, "I will not let them fill the Defence position. _Not negotiable_." She forestalled Dumbledore's protests.

"Very well, then." Dumbledore sighed. If the rumors were true, Dolores Umbridge would be a deserving recipient of the curse on the position, either way. "Divination it is. Though, not to make a case against myself, but you _are_ comfortable sending your people to Hogwarts, knowing that a Dark Lord is on the rise?"

"Fortunately for you, Brian, I do have some things I need to deal with over in the United Kingdom, so I am not, in fact, doing this purely out of the kindness of my own heart."

Yes, that was indeed the Yukari Yakumo he knew.

"As an added bonus for you, these magicians (1) have prior teaching experience, (2) have a higher predilection for Western magic than the average Japanese magic-user, and (3) can both speak fluent English already, by virtue of their education."

"Quite the fortuitous occasion, then. I suppose you want them to have diplomatic privileges?"

"With your current position, I doubt you can guarantee that. No, I'll deal with that on my end. Consider this a gift with purchase."

"I should have known you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to intimidate politicians, my friend."

Yukari simply smirked, then stood. "Well, I suppose that's the matter settled, then. You'll be hearing news in a couple of days."

"I do hope your people can take care of themselves, considering that a Ministry administrator will no doubt be appointed to the Defence position to meddle."

"Oh, Brian." Yukari gave a chuckle. "By the end of the year, I'll be surprised if you're not begging me to let them stay on for longer."

With a wave, another purple gap opened in the air, in which Yukari stepped into and vanished.

Staring at the rend that was now zipping itself up, Albus Dumbledore mused on the fact that one couldn't win all battles, not all the time.

* * *

_Carlton Gardens is a reference to Carlton House Terrace, a street that houses the Royal Society in the United Kingdom._

_Yasora Kojiwa is a character by Kimiko Muffin, creator of the webcomic _Touhou Nekokayou._ It's not going to be the last idea I'll be stealing from him, or I suppose her, now. The family name I used for Konngara comes from _Summer Pockets: Reflection Blue,_ a visual novel published by Key Visual Arts. _

_(Both names are throwaway references that I thought would be fun to put in; don't read too much into these.)_

_For updates on the story's progress, check my Profile._

_Review please!_


	10. Candid Friend

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

What do you mean, "Harry's supposed to be a prodigy at Occlumency?"

* * *

**Chapter 09 – Candid Friend**

A week before the issue of Luna's missing shoes resurfaced, Merry was fretting after her first Occlumency lesson with Harry Potter.

She had said the boy had the opposite of talent with regards to the Mind Arts, and she had meant it. Some people were just too honest and straightforward to learn the Art (a certain shrine maiden came to mind), but if one was being strict about it, you didn't need more than rudimentary levels of Occlumency to prevent your thoughts from being read–you just needed to clamp down hard.

However, such…inelegant methods didn't really sit well with her as an academic, and one's potential would be stymied by taking such a shortcut.

She did not think that any of her students would appreciate that.

Regardless, in the case of Harry Potter, there was definitely something strange going on, and she finally put her finger on what it reminded her off.

A possessed human, a few of which she had come across previously. How could that be? Add to that the strange feeling she had felt, of a boundary where none should exist...

_Two minds? But I could only perceive Potter's. And any interactions he might have had with this other mind would still be in his memories – it doesn't matter if it's all in his head if it's a foreign element. But what if he regards it as a part of himself – or does that even matter if there is no complete integration?_

"Merry?" At Renko's voice, Merry jumped slightly. "You alright? How was the lesson?"

"There are…things I need to look into." At Renko's questioning look, Merry held up a finger. "Not now. Tell me about the tea first!"

"It was okay, I guess." Renko hung up her shawl and her hat, and went to sit on the small couch. "I talked to Sinistra during the Welcome Feast, and she's not especially vocal, but she got quite excited when I mentioned Greenwich. Babbling just seems to be nice to everyone. And I had a debate with Vector about teaching maths to the students."

"So the usual number-y things?" Maribel moved and plopped down on the couch beside Renko.

"Yeah, yeah." Renko grumbled. "Oh, and Flitwick and Snape were there too."

"I saw Snape in Mr Potter's memories. He wasn't a particularly pleasant person in them." Merry frowned.

"He was just standoffish during the tea. I think one of the younger teachers dragged him there."

"Oo, oo, can I guess?" Merry perked up slightly. "Was it–"

"I don't know, so I can't confirm it for you anyway." Renko steamrollered over that line of thought. "Also, Flitwick wants a demonstration of your skills. He must have heard about your little stunt."

"You're no fun," Merry gave a small pout. "Also, what do mean _my_ stunt? You were the one that cast a spell wandlessly."

"Seeing as that is one of the few spells I _can_ cast at all, that's not saying very much. You, on the other hand, were doing some fancy dodging and silent casting yourself."

"Yes, but–" In lieu of a verbal retort, Merry instead went for a quick sequence of well-placed tickles, at which Renko let out an indignant squawk before being reduced to gasping for air.

~~[q]~~

"_Stupefy! Stupefy!"_

Cries of spellcasting were thick in the air at yet another meeting of the Nameless Club. Mats and numerous Cushioning Charms had been placed, and currently Ernie was facing Luna, and Neville Susan.

Today's exercise was on dodging spells. As Harry had logically pointed out, dodging was simply just quicker than needing to cast a _Protego_, and it wasn't as if that could withstand the Unforgivables.

"I survived Voldemort by running away," Harry had quipped. "I was lucky there were so many things to hide behind in that graveyard." There was a cold tendril of fear in his chest as he said it, but he had forced himself to joke about it anyway.

Therefore, dodge practice. Conveniently, that allowed whoever was casting to practice their speed and accuracy as well, which Harry counted as a nice bonus. However, the classroom wasn't big enough for everyone to let loose at once, so he had restricted it to two pairs at a time.

Not to mention the dangers of being hit by more than one spell at a time. Harry at least thought that two was an acceptable risk.

Ernie gave a cry of dismay as Luna's spell hit him in the ankle, and Harry motioned for Hannah to swap in.

"_Ennervate._" Harry lightly tapped the Hufflepuff's forehead, and he awoke with a groan. "All right there?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Ernie looked over at the pairs of duellers. "I can't believe Lovegood got me again. Isn't she a Fourth Year?"

"Yeah, she is." Harry thought of a pair of missing shoes, and looked over to Neville and Susan instead. "They're pretty evenly matched, aren't they?"

"That they are, Harry. Can't say much about Neville, but Susan's slightly experienced, her aunt being an Auror and all."

"Hmm." After a few moments of watching, Harry called out again. "Neville, swap out!"

"But Har–" The rest of his sentence was silenced as Susan nailed him in the chest.

"Elementary mistake, getting distracted." Susan smirked. "I should probably say that after he's awake, hmm."

"Don't get too cocky, now." Harry took his place opposite Susan, and immediately struck. "_Stupefy!"_

The red-headed girl was fast, and her end of her plait drew tiny waves in the air as she ducked down. "_Stupefy!"_

And so it went, until Harry misread a movement and dodged _into_ an oncoming spell. Reacting on instinct, he drew upon one of the techniques he had tried to practice but had yet to pull off successfully.

Spell deflection. Or, for alliterative purposes, _spell swatting_.

Instead of casting a full-sized _Protego_, one channelled the magics of the spell into a smaller, more compact area at the tip of the wand, conserving magical energy and gaining more control over where to redirect the spell.

Susan's eyes widened an imperceptible fraction, as her seemingly on-target Stunner was haphazardly deflected away, only narrowly missing Luna, which allowed Hannah to score a hit. Not even bothering to register the surprise, Harry simply Stunned his opponent, then called for a time-out.

_Huh, that worked._

"Okay, everyone. Let's wrap up here. If you have no questions about today you can leave…I guess."

_Hopefully Susan won't ask too many questions._

Motioning for Neville to go on ahead, Harry approached the Hufflepuffs. "Ernie, Hannah, can I have a word?"

The two glanced at the odd one out, who shrugged. "I'll see you guys later." Susan left, but not before shooting Harry a contemplative gaze.

"Hey, Harry, what's wrong?" Hannah spoke, once they were the last three in the room.

"What makes you think something is wrong?"

"Your expression's not that hard to read, Harry. Are you okay?"

"_I_ am fine." Harry put some stress on the pronoun. "You two are the Prefects, right? For Hufflepuff."

"We are indeed. Is there a problem?" Ernie spoke up.

"Well…" Harry said. Some things you needed to do alone, but there was no sense in not seeking help when it was needed. "Have you noticed anything wrong with Luna?"

"Lovegood?" Ernie questioned. "Not exactly."

"Like how she looks slightly dishevelled all the time, and can't find her items during meetings sometimes, and walks around with no shoes?" Harry pressed on.

"Well, yes, but isn't that just…how she's like?" Ernie spoke, slightly hesitant. "She's not the most…conventional, of individuals." It was clear that he was trying to avoid offending Harry.

"Yes, well, I have reason to believe she's being bullied." Harry spoke. "And that people are taking her things and such."

"Loony Lovegood," Hannah spoke with a frown on her face. "I've heard. I almost called her that during a meeting before."

"You wha–"

"Harry, she doesn't mean it that way, and you know it." Ernie cut across Harry's protests. "She's been called that by a lot of people. It sinks in."

"And it shouldn't." Against his control, Harry once again felt a tide of familiar anger.

"Harry, we're not–we're not condoning this behavior." _So don't take this out on us_, Ernie seemed to be saying.

"I know you're not. But can't you, I don't know, talk to the Ravenclaw prefects or something?"

"We can, but…it might not work." It was Hannah who spoke up. "Harry, she's been here for four years. I don't know how much anything will help now."

"Something's better than nothing. Besides, we shouldn't leave fellow Club members out in the cold if we can help it. And we can."

The Hufflepuff prefects exchanged a look. "We have Potions with them tomorrow. I'll find Goldstein then." Ernie spoke.

"You mean _we'll_ find Goldstein, and Padma too." Hannah corrected. They turned to Harry. "That's the plan."

~~[q]~~

When he was finally alone, Harry tidied up the classroom, extinguished the lamps, and made his way to the Room of Requirement, where he set down a small mirror on an old table.

"Sirius Black!"

As always, his godfather responded nearly instantly. "Harry?"

"Hey, Sirius. Welcome to the Room of Requirement."

"Room of Requirement?"

"Yeah, in Hogwarts. Transforms into anything you need." Harry grinned, then angled the mirror around to show his godfather the room's interior. "Pretty neat, huh?"

"Anything you need…?" Sirius trailed off. "The possibilities, Harry! And how did you even find out about this place?"

"A house-elf told me," Harry said simply. "I've been using it to train up, seeing how useless Umbridge is. Want a demonstration?"

"Sure thing."

With that, Harry brought to mind one of the basic scenarios he had drafted…

_Three-on-one. The corridors…no, somewhere open so Sirius can see. _

…and leapt into action.

Golems in Death Eater robes sprung from the earth, and Stunning Spells immediately shot towards him. Without cover, Harry bobbed and weaved, even as the constructs circled around to box him in.

A _Protego _deflected two Stunners, and Harry saw the window to attack.

Reducto _at the feet, _Stupefy_ at the torso, minor jinxes wherever._ He recalled the simple system he had put together and stuck to, whirled around to block another few Stunners, and sent a Reductor curse low and a pair of Stunners high.

Ducking down again, Harry forced himself to keep focus, and sent a _Flipendo_ at the nearest target. It didn't fall over, but it stumbled, and he quickly shot yet another Stunner at it.

Two targets remained, and, instead of precision casting, Harry simply picked one and sent out three more Reductors. Plumes of dirt rose from the impacts, and he went for the opening–

Another Stunner shot towards him, and Harry narrowly sidestepped it, feeling the edges of his mind grow fuzzy as the spell grazed his elbow.

_Right, screw this._

He cast, fumbled the cast, sidestepped another spell and stumbled out of the way of the other, before getting the wand movements correct. _"Conseco Arctus!"_

Harry's Ribbon Cutter cast about, in a wide, reckless arc, bisecting his remaining two assailants and one of the table legs. Hastily dispelling the spell, Harry rushed over to the table and snatched up the mirror before the table could tip over and pitch it to the ground. "So, what do you think?"

"Merlin's pants, Harry." Sirius stared at the grin on his godson's sweat-soaked face. "I think you've been practicing more than you let on…though your control could still some work. As a former Hit Wizard, I wouldn't say that I would have liked you on my team, not if you're going to slice off my limbs."

Noticing his godson's dismayed expression, he quickly raised a hand. "Ah, but you've leagues above the average Fifth Year, Harry. I'm proud. Just don't overwork yourself."

"No such thing as overwork when Voldemort's back." Harry said darkly, before returning to a more cheerful voice. "Did you find any spells I could use?"

"Like I said, Harry. Most of the stuff here is quite nasty, and there's a surprising number of things relating to politics and bloodlines and such…but I did think of something you could practice!" Sirius brightened. "It's a technique taught in the Auror Academy, called Spell Swatting. It–"

"Sorry Sirius, I already know that one."

"What?"

"Yeah, this place is full of old stuff sometimes. I think the elves just dump everything here."

"Huh, what I wouldn't give to have found this back in the day…" Sirius had a wistful look. "Looks like I'll have to find something else for you, then."

"Nothing too easy, of course."

"Of course, Harry. Maybe you should get Ron and Hermione in on it too–Harry?"

"I told you before, Sirius." Harry tried to control his voice. "I'm no longer speaking to them."

"Wasn't that only a short fight?"

"I don't even think there was a fight. It's just…I just don't feel like talking to them. It's just…something kind of clicked in my brain, after spending almost the entire summer alone, _plagued with nightmares about Voldemort._" Harry stood back up and swept his arm in an exaggerated arc. "All my life, I've just _let_ things happen to me–no, that isn't quite right, isn't it? I've just went along with everything. Quirrell after the Stone? Yeah, go and rescue it, because nobody believes you. Ginny in the Chamber? Yeah, just go and charge right in, because nobody else is reliable. Sirius caught for execution?"

The aforementioned Sirius held his breath.

"'Three turns should do it. Good luck.' That was what Dumbledore said. He entrusted your life, Sirius, to two thirteen-year-old teenagers." Harry was not quite shouting, but his godfather could hear the agitation in his voice. "Say, Sirius. Do you know how I joined the Quidditch Team?"

"Didn't you just fly well at the tryouts or something?" Sirius questioned.

"Nope," Harry shook his head. Well, if he was going to air his grievances again, he might as well have the courtesy to keep the number of people he bothered to a minimum. "I pulled a stunt during my first flying lesson. McGonagall brought me to the then-Quidditch captain afterwards, got me a Nimbus Two Thousand, and I was on the team as Seeker." He shook his head. "At the time, I was just so relieved at not being punished that I didn't even realise I was being forced into doing something."

Sirius was speechless. "Harry, I–"

"Even when Ron stopped speaking to me last year, or even before that when Hermione got my Firebolt confiscated, it didn't even occur to me to talk to people other than those two. How was I supposed to know? I never had friends before Hogwarts! I don't know anything about making friends! I just sat there, and accepted–"

Harry's voice hitched. Sirius, looking as if he wanted to reach through the mirror at this very moment, tried another approach. "But Harry, they were your friends. They suffered with you, and shared good times with you. Didn't Ron break into your house and rescue you once?"

"But they wouldn't write me over the summer." And there it was, the one point that was stubbornly fixed in the centre of this entire issue, and the one point that Harry refused to let go of, no matter how unreasonable it made him appear. "I know, Sirius! I know what Dumbledore said! And I'm _still angry!_ I know I shouldn't expect them to, I don't know, _break rules_ to keep in contact with me, and I hoped for it anyway!" Harry paused, for it was becoming difficult for him to speak. "And then," he continued, "I realised I didn't really have much in common with either of them. I'm not a bookworm like Hermione, and I don't like Quidditch like Ron."

"You–you don't?"

"Being on the team was fun, and my teammates were all nice people. But I never really liked the sport itself, not like how I enjoy flying."

"That's no reason to stop talking to two of your oldest friends."

"Do you know Neville Longbottom?" Harry changed tack.

"Sort of. He's Frank and Alice's kid, right?"

"Something like that. The thing is, I've been exercising with him in the mornings since the start of term, and yet I _already_ feel more comfortable talking with him then I do either Ron _or _Hermione."

"But just because–"

"Sirius, we can't all be the bloody Marauders." Harry cut across harshly, and Sirius took a sharp intake of breath. "And even _that_ didn't last, _did it?"_

There were a few moments of silence.

"That was a low blow, Harry." Sirius spoke quietly, and Harry immediately cringed.

"I'm sorry–"

"It's fine. I know you've had a tough time recently. I just don't want you to, I don't know, casually discard your oldest friends just because of this incident."

"I know, Sirius. And sorry for bringing up–"

"Hey now, Harry. It doesn't matter to me anymore." Sirius frowned. "Well, not that much. Maybe a bit." Seeing that Harry was about to apologise, _again_, he decided a little levity was in order. "Enough apologies. You leave being serious to me."

Harry stopped short. "You did not just–"

"I did. And now that I've got my point across, can we just changed the subject. Come on, show we what else you can do!"

"Right then." Harry cheered up slightly, and waved his wand at the room. "I've been practicing fighting indoors too. Here!"

As row upon row of shelves manifested, each with dimly glittering objects, Sirius felt a mild sense of unease. Deciding that it was nothing, he instead laid back and watched his godson's performance.

~~[q]~~

"Padma said they'll both look into it," Susan said, as she slid into the chair beside Neville's.

"Thanks, Susan." Harry looked up from his Charms text for a moment. "Wait, you aren't a prefect!"

"Hannah asked me to pass on the message. Oh, and she and Ernie won't be joining us today." She gestured at a distant table in the Library. "Ernie says that Justin and the other Hufflepuffs are starting to be suspicious." At Harry's raised eyebrow, she elaborated. "Of why we're spending so much time around you, that is."

"What, we can't be friends now? Right, I'm the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, so normal rules don't apply to me."

"You _are_ being slandered by the _Prophet_ right now, though." Neville pointed out.

"Yeah, rub it in, will you."

"Hey, if we didn't like you, we wouldn't have agreed to sign that scroll in the first place." Susan gently pointed out. "It's just that they need to keep up appearances."

"And you don't?"

Susan smirked. "I don't. Care as much, that is. Auntie always said that a Bones should never bend to public opinion."

"Bet she told you to drink more milk as well." Harry snarked out, to Neville and Susan's confused looks.

The lighthearted mood instantly became a tinge heavier when a tired-looking Luna Lovegood approached the table and sat down.

"Everything all right there, Luna?"

"Eyah." She gave a small but cute yawn. "There was a significant Nargle infestation yesterday, but things are fine now." She began taking out her things.

Harry exchanged a look with Neville. _They aren't, aren't they? _His friend seemed to be asking.

_No, they're not. But they'll soon be._

_I'll make sure of it._

* * *

_We'll see if that happens, Harry._

_Not sure if I've explained this before, but: in canon, Sirius gives Harry the two-way mirror during Christmas. Let's just say that in this timeline, he finds it earlier and gives it to Harry before the start of term._

_Also in canon, "Flipendo" is a jinx that knocks people back, but we already have "Depulso" for that. Instead, it's being used as the incantation to a jinx that trips people over. Well, either way you're being knocked on your ass._

_I am also not good at writing fight or action scenes, since it always feels very silted to me. Leave a comment or something if you think they're weird, I guess. In fact, leave a comment if you think anything could be better written, in terms of execution, of course – the plot is already fully planned out._

_Updates on the status of the next chapters can be found on my ffnet profile page._

_Review please!_


	11. Cinderella Cage

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

Disclaimer: the protagonists aren't always correct, and every character always has their own interests to look out for.

_(Note, 24/10: The last portion of the chapter [that is, Harry's conversation with Luna] has been rewritten/extended significantly. The rest of the chapter is untouched.)_

* * *

**Chapter 10 – Cinderella Cage**

Harry dreamt he was once again in Divination. Not the normal lessons of Merry, but in Trelawney's old classroom, back in the tower, air heavy with smoke and incense.

He was arguing with Ron and Hermione about Quidditch, and the shelves all around them were filled with Bludgers, trembling in their positions, waiting to strike…he said something in a heated voice, and Hermione stormed away, crying, and Ron ran after her with a stricken expression…

The Bludgers were suddenly crystal balls, and the ceiling pulled away to extend upwards…_and the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…_

The dream changed…

He was pacing about in an opulent study, back and forth…the memories of pain as his body was destroyed, torn from himself…it would not happen again…the boy would not escape him again...

_Yew, thirteen and a half inches…._and yet, it would not do if it failed him against the boy…yes…he needed another…and more than that…he needed the full wording…yes…he would get Rookwood, and his other loyal servants…and his reign would be absolute once more…

The dream changed again, and it was Merry, and she was sitting on the gravestone of Tom Riddle, Senior, and she was teaching. _Death…is commonly misunderstood in the Tarot…it doesn't mean dying…it means…it means…_

_"I await you, Harry Potter." A butterfly flickered/fluttered–_

_AVADA KEDAVRA. _

With a flash of green light, Cedric's body crumpled to the ground once more, and Harry woke up with a shudder.

~~[q]~~

Seemingly, his rant to Sirius, while cathartic, had triggered a new feeling in him that he hadn't felt in some time: uncertainty.

_I just don't want you to casually discard your oldest friends over this incident_.

Harry hated it. He missed the feeling of righteous anger, of the sheer satisfaction of turning his nose up at the two people whom he felt had abandoned him right at the time he needed it the most.

It was as if a bubble had popped. Now he was aware: of Ron's wistful look as he settled beside Neville in nearly every lesson, at how Hermione avoided his gaze and hid behind her piles of books as he returned from yet another Club meeting.

He told Neville as such, as September rolled around into October. Neville had said nothing, just listened.

"Well?" Harry said.

"Well, what?" Neville had said. "You expect me to know what to do?"

"Well, yeah, seeing as you gave good advice the last time."

"I did?"

"Yeah, about the 'not enough people know Harry as a person' thing."

"Harry, that wasn't advice, just common knowledge among people who aren't…well, who aren't Ron or Hermione." Neville stated flatly.

"So you don't have any words of wisdom for me this time, o wise one?"

"Not really. Except that…well, to be honest, despite everything that's been going on, this has been the best year for me so far, you know."

"Really, now." Harry stared over at the sun rising over the Forbidden Forest. No matter how many times he saw it, he thought that he would never tire of this view.

"Yeah. For all that I'm friendly with Seamus and Dean, they were always closer to each other, you know? With Ron being your best mate, I was kind of always the odd one out in Gryffindor. So, if you tell me now that things are going to go back the way they were…"

"You would be kind of disappointed, huh? I get that."

"N-not that I'm trying to guilt-trip you or anything," Neville added quickly. "Oh…I just kind of did, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you kinda did." Harry gave a short laugh. "But at least you're admitting it."

"But what if that was part of my plan all along?" Neville argued back.

"And you arguing against yourself just makes me more inclined to trust you," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, but what if _that_–"

"Neville, you've had to listen to me complain about my nightmares and my problems for weeks now, and you just did it without judging me, or complaining, or making some excuse _or something_. You've been a damn good friend to me, even in this short amount of time, and I–if you ever need me, I got your back, you know?"

"Thanks, Harry." Neville said after a short pause.

"Besides," Harry continued, it's not as if things can simply go back to the way they were, not after an entire month has gone by like this." He sighed. _Appearances, huh?_

"So, what are you going to do?"

"No bloody clue." Harry shrugged. "Try to be civil, at least. They're just kids who followed Dumbledore's orders."

"Are you saying you _aren't_ a kid? Aren't we all the same age?"

"Yeah, but…" Harry snapped his fingers several times, trying to word his thoughts. "I'm not quite sure how to explain it. Look, you know Voldemort killed my parents, right?" He gritted his teeth as the Dementor-induced recollection resurfaced, but finished the sentence anyway.

Neville looked at him strangely. "Everyone knows that."

"Yeah, but the point I'm trying to get at is…Ron, he's still got both of his parents, even if he has several siblings he needs to compete for attention with. And Hermione, as far as I know, also has a set of relatively normal parents and a normal upbringing. So, there's already a fundamental difference in our expectations regarding the world, especially with regards to the degree in which authority figures are reliable." Harry finished his sentence, and marvelled at himself.

_Bloody hell, when did _I _get so perceptive and eloquent?_

Neville continued looking at him strangely. "I think I understand. At least, a bit of it. After all, my parents–" Neville stopped short. "Never mind."

"Your parents?" Harry questioned.

"They…I…" Neville stared off into the distance. "Breakfast is almost ending soon, Harry. We should go." Without another word, he began to stand, and Harry quickly followed suit.

_I guess I shouldn't push him over it._ After a journey into Dumbledore's Pensieve the previous year, Harry knew about the fates of Frank and Alice Longbottom: tortured into insanity by the Lestranges.

And if Voldemort was going to get _his other loyal servants_, Harry had a faint inkling of the events to come.

~~[q]~~

"_Tempus._" Numbers glowing a gentle blue sprung into being, and Harry shook his head. "Well, I need to go."

"Where to, Harry Potter?"

"Remedial Divination." Harry looked at Luna, and gave her a small wink, on impulse, which Susan and Ernie didn't seem to notice, and the cherubic girl seemed to cheer up slightly.

(Neville and Hannah were absent, on account of Sprout's Gardeners having a meeting.)

"RemedialDivination_? Again_? I didn't know your grades were that bad." Ernie questioned.

"Well, after Trelawney predicting my death nearly every lesson the past two years, I'd say this is almost a welcome change." Harry spoke wryly. "Anyway, don't wait for me. And play nice with each other," he added, injecting some mock-sternness into his voice.

"Yes, professor," Susan said dully, playing along.

As he exited the library, Harry spied Hermione, alone at a table, surrounded by piles of parchment and books and with distinct dark circles around her eyes.

He tried not to look to hard, or stare too long. Trying to distract himself, he thought of another conversation he had earlier in the day. It had been a few weeks since he had asked Ernie and Hannah for help on "the Luna situation", and nothing had changed.

_"Harry, I took the liberty of asking Padma for an update. She says she brought it up, but unless there's actual, solid proof, like the perpetrators being caught in the act, there's nothing any of the Prefects can do," Ernie said._

_"And I got the feeling that they're aren't that enthusiastic at catching the culprits either," Hannah had added. "Even Padma and Anthony," she said, more hesitantly. _

_Instead of getting angry, Harry had only gave a long sigh of resignation. "I'm disappointed but not surprised. Well, that's that, I suppose. I'll handle the rest." _

_"Harry…" Hannah said. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you? And does _Luna_ even know you're doing this? Why are you doing this…going to such lengths?" _

_"No, I'm not. No, she doesn't. And lastly, well, if any of my friends were going through something so serious, like missing half of their stuff half the time, well, I would step in." _

_"I think what Hannah meant was," Ernie put up a hand, stopping the wavy-haired girl from speaking, "is she _really_ just a friend? Because if you're thinking of doing something heroic to win her affections or something, you realise that she's not suddenly obligated to return them, even if you do succeed." _

_Some small part of Harry cringed slightly, but the rest remained solemn. "I know that. And you're assuming I do like her in that manner, which I don't." _

_"It's just…all this sneaking around our own clubmates isn't really making me comfortable, you know. I just wanted to check," Hannah twisted her fingers slightly in a nervous gesture. _

_This time, Harry did recoil slightly. "Sorry, Hannah. I didn't realise." _

_"Don't worry about it." _

_"But asking us secretly to check on Ravenclaw, and with it being pretty obvious that you're planning something…to be honest with you, I don't think she's just another friend to you, isn't she?" Ernie probed._

_"Well," Harry placed a hand on his chin, "I suppose…I do owe her a favour, though. I don't think she knows that she was doing something for me at the time, but I still feel as though I owe her. Is that a good enough explanation?" _

_"I guess it'll have to do." Hannah said. Ernie gave her a look, but she ignored it. "We shouldn't probe our Fearless Leader any further, not if he's going to be off rescuing a damsel." Hannah gave a teasing smile. _

_"Hardy har har." _

Now, as Harry approached Professor Merry's office, the same two Ravenclaws that he had sometimes seen on his way to Occlumency appeared once more, again looking happy.

_The boy's Boot, right? I don't know the girl's name, though._

Harry waved a hand. "Hey, there. You're…Boot, right? I'm sorry, but I don't know your name." He said to the girl.

"Yes, I'm Terry Boot." The boy ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "And this is Su, Su Li, same year as myself." He gestured at his companion, who simply nodded. "You're Harry Potter, right?"

Harry did not miss the upward flick of the eyes toward his forehead, and suppressed a mild flash of irritation. "Yes."

"Are you here to see the professors as well? What project are you working on?"

"Project?"

"Well, yes, word is that the professors are open to discussing loads of interesting things about magic. Me and Su were trying to know more about non-Western magics, since you'd think it'll be different from what we know at Hogwarts."

Harry swore that the quiet girl was mouthing "Su and I" to herself, but he could barely keep up with Terry's rapid pace of conversation. "Uh, yeah."

"So? Are you working on anything interesting? We're trying loads of stuff, like maybe getting some of our Muggle things to work at Hogwarts, and also maybe a project like spell creation to earn extra O.W.L. credit for Arithmancy. Su's here interested in a bit of runes, like how Futhark and _kanji_ are used differently in–ouch!"

Su had jabbed Terry in the ribs with her wand. "Talking about your own work is fine, but stop blabbering about mine, will you?"

"Yes, ow, sorry."

_Are all Ravenclaws these eccentric?_ Harry thought to himself. He gave a slight cough to move the conversation along. "Anyway, I just wanted to ask you something."

"Me specifically, or the both of us?" Terry was rubbing his side.

"I guess it can be for the both of you, then. Do either of you know about Luna Lovegood's situation?"

_And did Li just mutter "does either" under her breath?_

"You're going to have to be more specific than that, Har–I mean, Potter." Terry said.

"'Harry' is fine," shrugged the person in question. "And as for more specific…"

_Screw it, time to cut to the chase._

"…I meant, do you know anything about how Luna's getting bullied?"

"Bullied?" Terry was slightly shocked. "I haven't seen anything like that. Unless you mean how some people call her "Loony" sometimes, but that's just a nickname…" he quailed slightly under Harry's expression, "right?"

_I shouldn't get angry at them. It serves no purpose._

"Even if it is, it's…" _Mean. _"Obviously pejorative in nature." Harry said. "That aside, I was referring to how her things go missing all the time."

"Nope, never noticed a thing."

"Surely you've seen how she goes around sometimes barefoot or with _one shoe on_." Harry pressed.

"Well, yes, but isn't that just Lovegood exercising her own sense of fashion. After all, she is a bit…well, l–ouch!" He turned to Su again. "What was that for?"

"Terry, sometimes you need to know when you're putting your foot in your mouth." Su said neutrally. She turned to address Harry. "I'm sorry, I've never seen anything happen with my own eyes. The most I can say is that the people don't treat her seriously, and her eccentric nature means that it's difficult for anyone trying to get to know her better. I tried talking to her myself before in Third Year, but it went nowhere."

Harry frowned. "When you say people don't treat her seriously…"

"They don't regard her as someone who has feelings. That's my guess." Su stated bluntly. "I'm sorry, we need to get going. If you want another guess from me, it'll be the upper years that did it."

She steered Terry away, and the Ravenclaws left. Behind him, Harry could hear the faint sound of conversation: "Aww, but I wanted to talk to Harry Potter a bit longer…"

_Well, I know what to do next. And it certainly isn't wasting time interrogating the older Ravenclaws until they talk._

"Mr Potter?" Merry called to him. "Are you alright?"

_Shoot, now I'm late for Occlumency. _

"Just fine, Professor!" He called out down the corridor, and hurried towards the office.

~~[q]~~

"Getting better, Mr Potter."

A thoroughly exhausted Harry was half-sitting, half-sagging in a simple wooden chair. It seemed that he had finally managed to _detect_ incoming attacks, which was what Merry had called his own "high barrier to entry".

Once again, Merry was brewing tea, and it was one of the days where Renko was present, apparently helping to grade assignments. _"You should assume what I know, Renko would also know, and vice-versa, and that the both of us would never reveal anything of what we see in your mind to anybody else, unless you give us permission to, of course." Merry had told him._

Harry gratefully accepted the tea, and Merry sat opposite him. "Now that you are finally able to detect intrusion, the next step is to learn to strengthen your instincts towards repelling them." She sipped. "I have told you this before, but I will say it again: you have no talent in this area, meaning that–"

"–I'll have to work doubly hard to get the same results, yes." Harry replied dully. It had stung the first time the Professor had mentioned it, and it continued to make him flinch ever-so-slightly every time.

"Your natural tendency is not to think in well-organized trains of thought, but rather to react wildly, by instinct. That is why I am going the route of tempering those instincts, rather than the conventional route of, say, focused redirection of the mental probe."

Harry nodded.

"So, congratulations, Mr Potter. You have reached your first milestone. A simple step it may be, but it is always the first steps that mark a journey's beginning."

Despite Harry's tiredness, and everything else that was going on, a smile crept up on his face.

"But I must say," and it was here that Merry's expression turned a notch more sombre, "it is clear that you are troubled by many matters as of late, even more so than what I assume to be your normal self. If you are comfortable with it, I do not mind you speaking of them with me, if you think that it may help."

Harry took a moment to consider. _Well, it's not as if she hasn't already seen everything._

"Thus far I have been restricting myself to only glimpses," Merry spoke, and that was when Harry realised that he had been speaking aloud. "I do not know the full contexts, and I do not wish to intrude more on your privacy that I already have."

"Well…" _I suppose…I might as well ask for an adult perspective–an outsider's adult perspective._ "I have these two friends, Ron and Hermione…" Harry proceeded to explain the details of his friendships, the recent summer, and his subsequent sort-of falling out.

"Unfortunately, I cannot give you much advice in this regard. In my youth, I had…difficulties, shall we say, with maintaining relationships with others. It was only in adulthood that I managed to overcome these difficulties." She turned to the desk. "Any thoughts, Renko?"

The Assistant Professor, which had faded into the background, now spoke. "The youngest Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, huh? I won't tell you to forgive or not, but it does seem like you have a long history with them. You should remember that." She turned back to her writing. "Leaving them dangling like this also isn't good for them–or yourself. You need to have a clear talk with them, as soon as possible."

_Well, that was certainly direct._ Harry was slightly taken aback by Professor Usami's matter-of-fact tone.

"And there you have it, Mr Potter." Merry smiled.

"I'll…I'll think about it." Harry said. "Thank you again, Professor Merry, Professor Usami."

When Harry had left, Renko looked up from the desk, her face expectant. "Merry?"

"I need a few more lessons to be sure, and even then..." Merry spoke. "The boundary seems to be shifting every time. It could be leftover effects of a possession, effects of a _current_ possession, an empathic link, a spilt personality, or a very, _very_ well-developed imaginary friend. In short, I have no idea what this is. I never even would have picked it up if not for…" _The ability to sense boundaries._ "…my own weirdness!"

"Can't you just probe deeper?" Renko simply asked.

"I could, but I don't want to risk him picking up on anything, now that he's becoming more proficient." Merry folded her arms. "I also don't want to betray his trust, you know."

Renko sighed. "And yet you didn't offer him a written contract. 'I, Maribel Hearn, swear to not reveal…'"

Merry felt a small twinge of guilt. As always, she could count on Renko to cut to the hard facts. "He's a celebrity–no, he's practically the country's child hero. If I saw something dangerous, _really _dangerous, I'll need to report it, privacy or not." _And he's more famous than Reimu is back in Mahoutokoro._ "Gods, now that I think about it, Yukari practically asked us here to–"

"She didn't say anything of the sort, you know. 'Go teach at Hogwarts, make friends with the students, and keep and eye open.' That's all she said–"

"You don't _know_ her like I do, Renko." Merry had now stood up, and was pacing the office. There was no mistaking the animosity in her voice. "She never speaks straight, and never tells the whole truth. Here's a country with a Dark Lord on the horizon, seemingly returned from the dead, and there's an oddity in the boy who said to have _mysteriously caused his defeat_ prior." She turned and faced Renko. "There is no way these two things aren't linked, and there is absolutely_ no way_ we haven't been sent here, placed here, in a deliberate manner, for some roundabout purpose or another."

By the gods, she wanted to reach into the Boundary and strangle the old manipulator. It wasn't enough that Yukari seemed to be playing some sort of game with everyone as her pieces, but it was also that the game seemed to have two and a half times as many dimensions as everybody else's.

"You could have said no, you know."

"I could have," Merry said agreeably. "But I'm not spiteful enough to turn down opportunities just because it's Yukari giving them." She sighed, and drained the rest of her teacup. "And Yukari knows it as well."

"So what do we do now, then?" Renko said. "The way things are going, it sounds like we're heading into an Incident. And we're not even in Japan, which complicates things even more."

"I'm not going to abandon my obligations halfway. Especially not as a teacher, and especially not when the poor students look as if they haven't had a competent instructor in years." Merry shook her head, and Renko gave a resigned smile. _Yep, that's Merry. Once she sets her mind on something, she goes through all the way with it._

"So, feet first into the unknown? Again?"

"Yes, again."

_One more adventure for the Sealing Club. Things sure never are boring with you around, huh, Merry? _

~~[q]~~

In the hallway, Harry ran into Luna. "Luna? What're you doing here?"

"I know what you're doing, Harry Potter." Luna said simply.

_All right, who went and told her? _"I guess the jig is up, then. Who told you? Ernie? Hannah? Susan? I don't think Neville would say."

The eccentric Ravenclaw quirked her eyebrow, and pointed a single finger, which Harry's eyes followed…to the center of his own chest. "Me? When?"

"About five seconds ago."

"About five sec–" _Alright, I must be slipping if I really fell for the oldest trick in the book. _"Luna, I–"

"If you really are planning something involving me, I would like to know." Luna's voice held no tone of rebuke or recrimination, and yet Harry felt his heart jump slightly. He took a quick look at her eyes, and they, too, had no expectation, just curiosity.

_Now that she knows something is up, I can't _not _tell her._

"_Tempus_," Harry instead said. Going through motions of the familiar spell helped clear off some anxiety, as he had come to rely on, and he motioned for Luna to follow. "It's getting late. I'll walk you back to Ravenclaw Tower, and we can talk on the way."

As they fell into step, Luna continued to say nothing, which Harry took as his cue to begin the conversation. "Luna…I know people have been taking your things."

"It's the Nargles. Or the Wrackspurts. Either one, though probably the Wrackspurts." Luna said simply.

"Doesn't matter what they are, since it's the people who are doing the _actual_ taking." By now, Harry had had enough conversations with the girl to guess at her curious metaphors, though, as it was with so many other things pertaining to Luna Lovegood, he was never _quite_ sure. "And I'm going to help you stop that."

When Luna did not reply, Harry continued. "Well?"

"The Wrackspurts will still be there, Harry."

"They might be, but at least you'll have your things with you." Harry soldiered on.

Their footsteps continued to softly echo in the hallway. After several beats, Luna spoke again. "And what if, Harry Potter, I said I prefer the way things are now?" She said, quietly, still without any hint of aggression. "What if I was, and am, Loony Lovegood?"

Harry's breath hitched. _Option one, impose your ideas of what you think would be better on her. The bullying may stop, but it may be going against her wishes. Option two, say you'll do nothing if she doesn't want me to, but…things will continue? _The phrase "dammed if you do, dammed if you don't" came to his mind.

_If Luna truly doesn't mind, and doesn't want me to do anything, no matter what I'm going to do, there'll still be something wrong at the end. And that means…_

"You're not loony, Luna." Harry decided to eventually say. "But if you tell me you don't mind getting called names, and getting your stuff stolen every other day, I'll tell you you're wrong, and I'll keep telling you that until you believe it." He did not raise his voice, but the words came out clear and certain. "There are things that are clearly _wrong_, and what's happening to you is _one of them_. "

"So sure you are, Harry Potter, in your own beliefs." The remark was mild.

"Have I ever told you about my life before Hogwarts?" Harry replied. "I didn't know what I was doing was magic–strange things happened around me, and my relatives all thought I was a freak. I didn't even–I thought that I deserved every ounce of bullying and mistreatment that came my way, because I thought that I was less than human." Harry looked up at the ceiling. "It took me a while, even after I knew I was a wizard, to learn–to snap out of that sort of thinking."

"And you think we're the same?" The same netural tone, still betraying nothing.

_Of course she sees w__ha__t I'm trying to do, and doesn't hesitate to point it out._

"I see similarities." Harry shrugged. "It's enough for me to want to do something. But there's a more important reason."

"Oh? Do tell."

Harry stopped walking, and turned to face her.

"You're my _friend_, Luna. I don't really know what you think about me, but I've regarded you as my friend ever since we stepped into that carriage at the start of the year, ever since you convinced me I haven't lost my grip on reality." Emotion crept into Harry's voice. "I know what you're going to say: 'oh, but it was only a few words', but trust me, Luna, they meant a lot to me at that time."

For several tense moments, Luna remained silent, and the two of them were still and utterly alone, in the flickering light of the corridor.

"And if you continue to tell me, after this entire conversation, that you don't care about what's happening to you, then I'll just care _for you_–"

_Wait, what in Merlin and Morgana's name am I saying?_

Then the girl stepped over, and wrapped her arms tightly around Harry, whose mind went blank instantly.

_What–_

"Harry Potter," Luna murmured, from somewhere near Harry's shoulder, "you really shouldn't say such things. It might give someone the wrong impression, you know?"

Harry did not reply; his body seemed to have shut down, with his brain only running by some trickle of auxiliary power.

"S–so–"

"Please help me, Harry." Luna said simply. _Please help me, _she thought, _even though along the way, I learnt to not mind it; even though, eventually, I wanted to become strong enough by myself __to deal with it by myself, to not bother anyone._

_But it's okay to accept help, right? So I can do this now, and do all the other things later, right? Right?_

The direct nature of Luna's words seemed to cancel out the effects of the hug, and Harry found his thoughts to be oddly clear. "Alright. Do you mind if it becomes a, um, Club thing?"

"It already is, isn't it?"

_Yeah, it is._

"But it's fine. The eagles are quite mean, and smart too. They'll claw at you, and circle around and strike where you don't want them to. A plan would be good. And I should probably help, since it is me we're helping, after all. Daddy says it's not good to be a princess about things."

_And here she is, back to her normal self again._

With a renewed spring in her step, Luna started back towards the Ravenclaw dorms. "I'll see you soon, Harry Potter. And I'll give you more hugs the next time, because it's funny to watch you freeze up every time."

_Does she really mean that–_ One part of Harry's mind started, only to get shot down by the other, more rational portions of his brain. _It's just a joke__, you idiot!_

The other parts of Harry's mind sighed, as they realized that a ribbing was surely incoming from the other members of the club once they found out.

Yet a fourth partition of his mind began to consider the possible avenues to which the Ravenclaw seniors could be_ gently persuaded_ to stop.

_Time to call for a meeting, I suppose._

* * *

_Harry doesn't really keep secrets well, does he? It seems to work only when nobody actually knows enough to ask in the first place. And dear gods, Luna sure is hard to write well. I didn't want to make her just another damsel in distress, but there's also no point if she's just somehow secretly good enough to deal with everything but then somehow...doesn't? Yeah, that makes no sense._

_Reminder: "Mahoutokoro" is used in the same manner as "Magical Britain" in this fic._

_5D Chess with Multiverse Time Travel, featuring dragons and unicorns, is an actual variant of chess, released in July 2020. No one can be told what it is; you have to see it for yourself._

_The next chapter will be titled "Kagome, Kagome". _

_Review please!_


	12. Between the Lines 2

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

~~[q]~~

**Between the Lines 2**

_Interlude, Ravenclaw House:_

"So, we can conclude that if _something strange_ happens in the next few weeks that revolves around Luna Lovegood, there is a _higher than normal probability_ that Harry Potter is involved, right?"

"Yes, Terry, I concede that point." Su sighed, and shifted some parchment around. The Arithmancy problems weren't going to do themselves, but it had been _two days_, and Terry was _still convinced_ that Harry was going to do something based on _one conversation_, which made things a tad difficult to complete.

"You think we ought to ask to join his secret club then?" Terry had a note of excitement in his voice.

"You don't know that he has a secret club!" Su hissed at him. For all that her House valued knowledge and learning, it was surprisingly difficult to get a Ravenclaw to _change their mind when they were wrong_ sometimes.

(Each study table in the common room had their own individual Cones of Silence, but it was still easy to tell when people were arguing by body language alone.)

"Yeah, because if everyone knows, it won't be much of a secret, would it?"

The utterly illogical reply, delivered in a most sincere manner, made her want to thud her head on her desk. "I can't even tell if you're doing this on purpose any more."

"But it makes sense! Potter's making a secret army to fight Umbridge, that's why he's lying low for now, and Granger's not in it because she likes following rules too much!"

"And Weasley? Where does he fit in all this?"

"He's obviously in love with Granger." Terry made a dismissive motion with his hand, waving away the counterpoint.

"Terry, do you remember last year?" Su sighed.

"Yes?"

"When you were convinced you had discovered a new trend in Arithmancy, and then Tony _and_ Padma _and_ I _all_ told you, _independently_, there it was just a coincidence, and then you _still_ brought it up to Professor Vector anyway?"

"Yes?"

"This is one of those times."

"Is it?"

"Yes!" Su threw her arms up in frustration. "Honestly, you're as bad as Loony L–" Su stopped short, and slowly lowered her arms back onto the table. "Well."

"We might need to stop calling her that, huh." Terry noted, a tad bit more sombrely.

"Yeah, or we might bring the wrath of _Harry bloody Potter_ down on our heads." Su sighed. The numerous rumors surrounding the Boy-Who-Lived, along with his general tendency to mostly not talk to people in general, had simply led many to just stay clear of him.

Cedric Diggory's death, along with the _Daily Prophet's_ reporting, had further murkied the waters. Su herself personally didn't think that Voldemort had returned, but a dead body was a dead body, and that meant that trouble was brewing, _somewhere_.

"Better than bringing the wrath of the Divination Professor down on our heads," countered Terry, who had returned to his chipper self in a matter of seconds. "Did you see her expression when we asked Professor Usami how to–"

Su's face began to redden. "Excuse me, _we?_ What do you mean, 'we'? _You_ were the one who asked–"

"And _you_ were the one who suggested consulting them in the first place." Terry pointed out, with an air of innocence. "Honestly, it's almost scary just how reasonable you can appear to be when you're actually this _enthusiastic_ about–"

"_Silencio._" Su casted. She was beginning to regret confiding in her friend about her embarassing hobbies, even if he did share her interests.

~~[q]~~

_Interlude, Hufflepuff House:_

Susan Bones sighed as she listened to the many complaints about Umbridge. The Hufflepuff common room, located in the lower levels of the castle, was always warm, in temperature and lighting and atmosphere, but this time her heart wasn't quite in it.

Beside her, she knew Hannah would be feeling about the same thing, and so would Ernie, from a few feet away.

Receiving secret Defence training from Harry Potter himself had seemed to be a good idea at first, but not being able to tell others…well, it had been a good idea at the time, and in fact, she mused, it was still a good idea now, because she really didn't want Umbridge to come down on their heads, but the hush-hush thing was starting to wear on her.

Slightly.

Very slightly.

Then again, the excitement of being in a _secret club for Defence_ outweighed that by quite a lot, which meant that effectively, nothing had changed. It was just something she had noted about her own thoughts.

("In the conversation, Wayne Hopkins cracked a joke, and Ernie and Justin laughed.)

She supposed she ought to offer and teach the rest, or at least those in her year, being second-best in the club next to Harry himself (though Neville was steadily improving), but then _questions_ would be raised, and she did not like dealing with _questions_.

(Yet another reason why she didn't even think about trying to be a Department Head like her aunt.)

Her thoughts drifted slightly further.

Harry Potter knew spell deflection, a technique that even final-term Auror Academy trainees had trouble with.

There had been rumors that Harry was Albus Dumbledore's secret apprentice.

Harry Potter had slain a centuries-old Basilisk at the age of twelve.

And on the other hand...

There were whispers that it was Harry Potter that killed Cedric Diggory, for the glory or the gold or whatever.

The same people that believed this thought that Harry's claims of Voldemort returning was so that he, again, would be famous and/or needed. It was a grab for more fame, for political power, they said, and Albus Dumbledore, whose own prestige was beginning to dim, was in on it...

At face level, it seemed so normal, so reasonable, that even Susan herself could almost believe it.

And Harry himself had disappeared over the summer, not even turning up for Cedric's funeral in Ottery St. Catchpole, and then reappeared as if nothing had happened...

Hannah, in her one _Gryffindor_ moment, had suggested that Harry Potter teach them Defence, and she had jumped at the chance to learn from, well, someone who had faced down and survived You-Know-Who.

She sighed to herself and tried to join the conversation.

Not that she believed it, but if Harry, of all people, was secretly evil, they were all doomed anyway, so she might as well get some good training out of it.

~~[q]~~

_Interlude, House of Black:_

Sirius Black had many faults. He was reckless and impulsive, and tended to do things without thinking, like a dog chasing after every car that drove past on the street. His emotions waxed and waned quickly and unpredictably, like fire in intermittent bursts of strong wind.

He carried with him an air of childishness, and flashes of teenage rebelliousness could sometimes still be seen. One could suppose it came with being a scion of Dark house that stood against all of his ideals.

Twelve years in Azkaban prison, in a place where every happy thought was drained from him, had led him to temper his faults somewhat, and given him a significant sense of self-reflection.

So here it was that Sirius Black was stuck in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, the ancestral, unchanging home of the Blacks, where villages and later towns had sprung up around. Specifically, he was deep in its (magically expanded) library, leafing through tomes he had not since the previous conflict with Voldemort.

And he was doing this without complaint.

Because for all his faults, you could never say that Sirius was traitorous. In fact, you could actually say that he was loyal to a fault, so much so that he could not understand why _anybody else_ would ever behave otherwise.

(Dark undercurrents of obsession and excess flowed in the Black bloodline, of which Bellatrix Black's madness was the most egregious example.)

For his many loyalties, his fiercest had been to James Potter, which later extended to his wife, Lily, and even later to their son, Harry.

And now there was something obviously wrong with Harry, and Sirius was worried.

(Quitting Quidditch? When he had enjoyed it for the past four years without complaint?)

There had been a look on Harry's face as of late, as he had seen in their recent mirror-calls. It reminded him, not of a traumatized child, but of the weary expressions of the members of the Order of the Phoenix, in the twilight days of the previous war.

Harry had went on a tirade, and Sirius had let him, only trying to gently shunt him in a less negative direction. It was all he could do across a mirror–had he been around physically he would have escalated things until an explosion released all that pent-up tension, but without his direct supervision, he did not want to risk it.

So now, apart from thinking about the right words to counsel his Godson, Sirius was simply trying to find spells that would help Harry to survive. It was what Harry had asked of him, and all he could do, at least until Christmas.

He opened another book (gruesome blood sacrifice, again), and flipped through it. It was all principles and concepts–useless again, for his purposes, and he swore as a page of the old tome detached itself and floated to the ground.

Closer inspection revealed that the paper wasn't a page, but a note with very familiar handwriting.

When in Morgana's name had Lily Potter been allowed into the Black Library, and why hadn't he known about it?

~~[q]~~

_I thought I would try branching out from Harry's perspective a bit more, so here we are._

_Review please!_


	13. Kagome, Kagome

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

* * *

**Chapter 11 – Kagome, Kagome **

"_Illusio Mantellum._" Harry tapped his head smartly with his wand. Whereas Moody's charm months earlier had felt cold and clammy, like an egg fresh out of the fridge, his own spell felt more like he was standing under a pleasantly warm waterfall. In front of him, he saw Neville, Luna, and Susan do the same.

_Maybe it feels different because it's my own? Or is it because I'm more attuned to magic now?_

"Luna, try again–I can still see your legs. Neville, Susan, you're both good." Harry nodded approvingly. "Everyone ready? Okay, come a bit closer. _Prasentia Litura._ Right, let's get going."

~~[q]~~

_"You mean to say," Susan said incredulously, "that Luna just came up and talked to you, in her usual cryptic self, and you just said everything?"_

_Harry sighed at what was probably going to be the theme of the meeting. "Yes." _

~~[q]~~

Disillusionment and Notice-Me-Not. It wasn't a full substitute for an Invisibility Cloak, but it would have to do: four Fifth-Years wouldn't fit under it, not at the same time, and Harry himself was slightly reluctant to reveal the existence of it…so blatantly. Besides, it had been a valuable learning-slash-teaching opportunity for the Club.

_And it's not good to rely on something that can be stolen or taken away from you._

The four teenagers crept out of the disused classroom, and made their way to Ravenclaw tower.

"Remember: two knocks if a student is coming, three knocks if somehow Filch if it's Filch. And four knocks if you're somehow spotted–run up here and get them out if you need to."

With that, Susan took her position at the foot of the spiral stairs, and Neville took his midway up.

"Good luck, Harry." Neville nodded to him as he went past.

~~[q]~~

_"Not to argue against myself, but maybe Harry was just being considerate of Luna's feelings? So if we shouldn't have brought this up…" Hannah said reasonably. _

_As one, the group looked over at the person in question, who seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, as usual. _

_Noticing the stares, Luna stared back. "Oh, don't worry about it. I'm just glad we all get to make a plan now. A first adventure together!" She clapped her hands. "So, what's it going to be?" _

_Collectively deciding that the issue was as good as settled, Harry decided to move the conversation along. "Well, first things first, I'm just putting it out there that this is likely going to involve (a), furtiveness," Harry glanced over at Ernie, "and (b), some degree of, uh, rule-breaking. So if anyone's not comfortable–" _

_"Well, we are Prefects, after all." Ernie exchanged a glance with Hannah. "Officially, we can't endorse anything of the sort, and we most certainly risk getting caught in, say, an illicit expedition to Ravenclaw Tower." _

_"I also want to say that I'm not exactly the most…comfortable with all this, either. So count me out for any pranks or sneaking around," Hannah ventured hesitantly. _

~~[q]~~

"Once it was the sun, now it belongs with the rain. Yet fire, heat, and light all remain. A single letter is what needs to be said, and you'll simply find it looking atop your head!"

Harry's mouth ran dry. _Forget the Sphynx last year, they should have just brought the door to the maze instead._ He turned from the eagle-headed knocker to Luna, who was already deep in thought.

"Hmm, I wonder if the door knows you're not a Ravenclaw? Its riddles aren't usually this long. Rhyming couplets, too," Luna mused.

"_Not_ the time, Luna," Harry gritted out. He could already feel the Disillusionment wearing off, and while he could easily apply it again, he needed to conserve all his energy for the next stage of the plan.

Automatically, he found himself turning his head upwards to the ceiling. The extremely plain and slightly grimy ceiling. The ceiling which did not hold any letters of any kind of alphabet whatsoever.

Although the castle was relatively cool this time of the year, beads of sweat began to form on Harry's brow. He couldn't fail here. Not in front of Luna, nor Neville nor Susan. Not as a leader of the club, and not as the person who agreed to this plan.

~~[q]~~

_"I think we can rule out direct magic on them. That'll definitely be noticed." Ernie brought up._

_"No prank items, too," Susan said immediately. "They'll just think it's some joke, when it's supposed to be more serious."_

_"Agreed," Neville spoke. "We're not trying to be the Weasley Twins here. It needs to be something more…subtle? Is that the word?" _

_"Scare them, then," Hannah piped up. "What? Just put up a scary message on the Common Room wall or something. 'We know you're been stealing.' Maybe red paint, like blood?"_

_Several heads turned to look at her. "Blimey, Hannah…" Susan said. "Remind me to never piss you off." _

_"But that's a good idea, though." Harry interjected. "The only problem is that if we _just_ scare them, it might not be enough. There needs to be direct action as well." _

_"Yeah, we need to get her things back too. I don't suppose we can just summon them?" Neville said. _

_"Just summon…" Images of a Firebolt and several flying tables came to him._

_"Well, Harry's quite good at the Summoning Charm, isn't he?" Luna said airily. "He can even perform it wandlessly." She said it as if it was perfectly normal. _

_"Of course he can." Ernie said dully. "This is ridiculous." Nods were coming from the rest of the club members._

_"Wait, you all just believe Luna?" Harry said incredulously. _

_"Harry, the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing aside, you can't deny that you've done some pretty amazing things over the past few years. Can you really blame us?" Neville said, ever the voice of reason. _

_Harry sighed. "I guess not."_

~~[q]~~

Harry looked away from the ceiling, which was providing no clues, and turned to scan everything above eye level. Finding no obvious clues whatsoever, he turned his thoughts inward. _Looking atop your head…maybe not above my head right now, but something more general. The sky? The stars? The moon? What? What? _

Beside him, Luna was, as always, her calm, serene self. Suddenly, she spoke. "Aha."

"You got it?"

"Harry, look here for a moment." He turned, and Luna brought her hands up to his face.

"Luna?"

"Just checking." Almost tenderly, she reached upwards and brushed away his fringe, and a short finger from a small hand laid traced the jagged shape of his scar.

A million volts of electricity seemed to run down Harry's spine.

"What…what are you–"

"The door's not really being fair to you, since you don't take Ancient Runes." She withdrew her hands, leaving Harry with a mild feeling of emptiness, and turned back to the door. "The answer is _Sowilo_ of the Younger Futhark."

"Good luck." The door greeted, and swung open to admit them.

Deciding to leave the questions for later, Harry entered the Ravenclaw common room.

~~[q]~~

_"And how do you plan on getting inside without being spotted?" Ernie questioned. "I say 'you', because I am sitting out–" _

_"Yes, Ernie, we get it." Harry said. "I'm not going to ask prefects to break the rules." _

_"But everyone else is fair game, huh." Neville pointed out._

_"Stop being obtuse on purpose, Nev," Harry chided. "I won't force anyone to come along, and I won't think less of anyone if they don't. And to answer the original question, we use the Disillusionment Charm."_ Which I specially read about and learnt beforehand, because I already knew that we'd need to get around unnoticed, _Harry thought to himself._

_"That is a _Sixth-Year _spell, Harry," Susan said. "Unless you can cast it all of us, which will take a lot of magic, it's not going to happen." _

_"That's why I'm going to teach everyone here the spell," Harry raised a finger to forestall objections. "The Patronus was NEWT level, and it's possible for a Third Year. Professor Lupin even told me at the time it was harder for me to learn as compared to others, because Dementors would affect me more strongly."_

_"More strongly?" Hannah asked._

_"My worst memory was…worser, I guess, than many other people's." Harry shrugged._

_"And what might _that_ be?" Ernie was still sceptical. Both Hannah and Neville shot him a look, which he ignored. "What? He brought it up." _

_"It was Voldemort killing my parents, Ernie." He did not miss the way the entire group recoiled at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "Do you want to hear the last words of my Dad? He said 'Run, Lily! I'll–'" _

_Neville silently laid a firm hand on his arm, and Harry looked over at his friend and stopped short. "Huh?"_

_"I think we got the point, Harry." Indeed, Ernie's had turned pale, and Hannah's hands were at her mouth in shock. Susan, too, looked as if she was carefully controlling her emotions. _

_"Sorry, guys." Harry stood. "Didn't mean to scare you like that. But my point is that what Year you're in doesn't matter. You just need practice, and you can practice anything until you get good at it." _

~~[q]~~

The Ravenclaw common room was wide and circular. The walls held arched windows, and was adorned with silks of blue and bronze. The ceiling was domed, painted with stars that were also reflected in the midnight-blue carpet. Small couches, tables and bookshelves occupied the rest of the space, and short steps lead to other sections of the room which held more tables.

In a niche opposite the door stood a statue that Harry assumed to be of Rowena Ravenclaw. The niche itself was flanked by two sets of stairs, which Harry assumed led up to the dormitories.

Harry walked up and looked into the statue's eyes. On her head, there was a strange circlet or tiara of some sort, and on it was etched the words: "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure." _And that's not a tiara. It's a diadem, isn't it? Ravenclaw's Diadem, said to possess the ability to improve one's mental faculties. _

…_wait, 'diadem'? _

"Harry? Can you help me stick the parchment?" Luna's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

When that was done, Harry faced the statue and the pair of doors, and took a deep breath.

He had ran through the meditation to attune to magic often enough now, what with all of his training sessions and Occlumency lessons. It felt familiar, the knowledge that he could simply affect the world with his thoughts alone feeling like a balm.

_Listen to the call. _

He raised his wand to the starting position for the Summoning Charm. If he could summon his Firebolt, all the way from his trunk, while at a stadium on the grounds…

Imagine what he could do now, now that he was in tune with himself.

_All of Luna's stolen belongings. Every single one. I will see them returned. I will see them come to me._ He held the image in his mind's eye, and cast.

"_Accio items stolen from Luna Lovegood._" It was not loud, but the certainty that reality would obey him remained all the same. With a series of loud bangs, numerous items immediately began to collect at his feet, at the base of Rowena Ravenclaw's statue.

Immediately, Harry was hit with a wave of noticeable fatigue, and he felt his knees bending, his arm resting on them to keep himself upright.

_If I'm already here, I might as well make it more thorough, right? Might help hide the fact that it's only Luna's items, too._

"_Accio items stolen by bullies._" More items came zooming forward, and yet another wave of fatigue hit.

_Well, I supposed I never had to use this much energy on a _singlespell_ before. _

He dearly wanted to take a nap in the comfortable-looking common room, but Luna seized him arm in a surprisingly tight grip. "Harry."

"Yeah, I know, I know." He swore; he had not accounted for the fact that his spell might wake up the entire house. "How're you going to get out of this? Come back later when they're all asleep again?"

"Don't you worry about me. You need to leave, now. Oh, and Disillusion me again. Quick." Harry mustered the energy to do so, feeling almost spent at this point, and Luna hurriedly shoved him towards the exit. "Now go. Don't worry, I'll take care of this."

"But what if–"

"Don't worry, Harry. You've done enough. More than enough." Luna looked as if she wanted to say more, but the sound of footsteps could now be heard. "Quick, quick!"

As Harry exited the room, the last thing he heard was Luna, quietly murmuring the words of the Notice-Me-Not Charm.

~~[q]~~

As always, the morning followed the night, and it was the middle of breakfast when Harry and Neville entered the Great Hall, as was routine by now. Thankfully, as he scanned the four House tables, he could see that Luna was quietly eating by herself, seemingly as per normal. Yet, he got the distinct feeling that the Ravenclaws were on edge.

"There's a few Ravenclaws who seem to be staring at you when you're not looking," Neville said quietly, as they made to eat their breakfast. Harry, with his back to the table, sighed.

"More than the usual?"

"More than the usual. You didn't tell any of them, right?"

"I don't know any Ravenclaws well enough to confide in. Except the obvious." Harry started heaping eggs and bacon on his plate, and pointedly ignored a certain Weasley, who was currently wolfing down his own food a few seats away. _Yes, yes, I know,_ he absentmindedly though to himself. _Soon._

"I think they're Fifth Years. One of them's…Terry Boot, I think his name was." Neville's brows were furrowed as he searched his memory.

Harry nearly choked on his egg as the name surfaced in his memory. _Ridiculous, _he chided himself internally. _It was only a single conversation. Besides, there's no proof. _At least, there wasn't after he had spent the morning casting enough household spells such that a simple _Prior Incantato_ wouldn't catch him.

All throughout the rest of the week Harry remained in a distracted, jumpy state, constantly on a paranoid lookout. In Divination he barely paid attention as Professor Merry revised fire omens, the smoke making his head throb even as he strained to look for symbols in the flame and fumes; in Potions he took even more care to not meet Snape's eyes, remaining quiet and subdued all through his acidic comments, and clamping down what rudimentary Occlumency protections he had.

Harry's current state did not go unnoticed in the week's Occlumency lesson itself, with Merry again giving a frown. "The difference between your previous lesson and this is like night and day, Mr Potter. I know you have only recently managed to detect intrusion itself, but to be able to lock down your mind like this is an astonishing feat. Perhaps detection was indeed the barrier to entry after all, and it would just be smooth sailing from now on."

Harry said nothing, only giving a nod.

"And yet," Merry continued, "while your thoughts–well, most of your thoughts–are buried deep, the faint impressions that I do receive, along with your own tenser-than-usual body language, do indeed show that you are hiding something."

Harry's shoulders sagged. _Was it really that obvious?_

"After these lessons, I have become quite familiar with your mannerisms, perhaps more so than a usual professor might be," said Merry, seemingly reading his mind. "That was just a guess, by the way." She further responded to Harry's mild widening of his eyes. "This method of defending the mind, while effective against frontal attacks, has certain drawbacks."

"Drawbacks, professor?" Harry asked.

"Have you not noticed, Mr Potter? You have been trying to maintain a state of constant mental awareness for a few days now. Did you not feel yourself tiring more quickly, and feeling more dull as time passes?"

Harry nodded. For his last practice in the Room of Requirement he had felt himself rely more on instinct and reaction alone, and he hadn't even dared to practice the Ribbon Cutter for fear that he might accidentally cut off his own arm.

"Like I said, it is effective against frontal attacks, and it is useful to deploy in the face of an obvious attempt at intrusion. But for more subtle probes, or even for other applications of magic to the mind, this is ineffective. You will need to relax, _then _guard."

Harry only underwent a few more tries before there was a knock on the door, and Professor Usami entered.

"Renko?" Merry raised an eyebrow, while Harry sank back down onto his chair.

"Uh, whoops, sorry about that." She quickly closed the door behind her.

"It's fine, we were just about to end in either case." Merry waved it off.

"In that case, perhaps it's good that Mr Potter is still present." At the sound of his name, Harry turned. "The professors were discussing some rumors. Usually, I wouldn't share this with a student, but…" At Merry's impatient expression, she got to the point. "It's very likely that our esteemed High Inquisitor," she made a face, which Harry smiled weakly at, "would be implementing an Educational Decree requiring all student organizations to have her approval. Flitwick thinks it'll be within the next few weeks."

"The Club." Harry saw her point immediately. _Absolutely ridiculous. It's like I try to solve one problem, and then the universe throws two more in my face to spite me._

"The Club," Merry nodded. "What a disappointing end to today's lesson, though you have made steady progress." She took a sip of tea, as was customary by now. "Before you leave, Mr Potter, is there anything else you would like to talk about? How goes the situation with your friends?"

With a small shock Harry thought that Merry had somehow read his mind about Luna and his nighttime escapade, even though he was sure that that was one of the memories he had kept secure. Then, he realized who she was talking about.

"Oh, I haven't actually apologised to, uh, Ron and Hermione yet," he said, putting an arm behind his head awkwardly. "But I think I'm going to do it soon."

"That's good, Mr Potter. And your nightmares? Are you keeping well? I should have asked sooner, but now is a time as good as any, especially with your improved Occlumency."

"They don't trouble me as much anymore…I think." Now that Harry thought about it, he hadn't really woken up screaming his lungs out in the past few weeks. "They're not fully gone, but it seems like the worst of it isn't that bad anymore." He said nothing about the weirdness of the rest of it.

"Good, good. If you are experiencing anything abnormal, please do let me know immediately. We've been careful, but as I said, mind magic is inherently dangerous."

Harry simply nodded. He didn't want to trouble the nicest professors that he knew more than he already had.

"Oh, and one final thing. Whatever happens, that classroom will still continue to be open for you, alright? Keep up the good work." Merry winked at him.

~~[q]~~

"It was a good distraction," Luna had shrugged.

"And your stuff hasn't been stolen since? And people calling you names?" Harry demanded. A stray _Impedimenta_ soared over to where he leant against the classroom wall, and he deflected it. "Watch it!"

"They still do call me 'Loony', I suppose. It's a small matter, as compared to having my items stolen."

Harry bristled at the fact, but controlled himself. _It's too bad I can't just put a Taboo on the word or something. Hmm, on second thought…but no, I'll probably need to get access to the castle's ward scheme itself. But maybe it doesn't need to be on the entire castle? _

"Wrackspurt got you, Harry?" Luna said. There was a quirk in her eyebrows.

"Nope, just thinking." Getting to his feet, he called over to the group at large. "Alright, I think we can call it for today."

"About time, Harry," Neville said. "Any more and Hannah would have become a statue." Susan swatted him on the arm, and Harry gave a chuckle.

~~[q]~~

Harry decided to tackle the harder target first.

"Ron."

"Harry." The youngest Weasley son said neutrally. "I got your note. What do you want?"

"To apologise." Harry said simply. Ron said nothing, so Harry continued. "I shouldn't have just blown you off like that for things that happened during the summer. It was rude, and I'm sorry."

Ron nodded. "It's fine, mate. I've been a bit of a prat in the past, too. I reckon I should have, I don't know, tried something, I guess, even if Dumbledore said not to. Hermione probably would have known what to do."

"Hermione." Harry exhaled. "I'm going to apologise to her next."

"Right you should. She's been overworking herself." Ron shook his head. "She's been intolerable, going on and on about OWLs. I can't get her to relax."

"That's Hermione for you." Harry shook his head.

"So, let's get back to the common room. You can say what you need to say, then we can get a game of wizard chess going. And we can both shake her out of her funk." Ron said amiably. "Or maybe get her to sleep. She probably needs it."

"No kidding."

The pair left the empty classroom.

"Say, Harry, now that you're back, when're you gonna rejoin the Quidditch Team? Ginny's good, but I think it'll be better if you're back. Especially now that I'm Keeper."

Harry froze in his tracks. "I'm…not going to do that, Ron."

"Eh? Why not?"

"Because I have more important things to do with my time," Harry said patiently.

"B-but it's _Quidditch_, Harry! And I finally made it to the team! Seriously, mate, first Hermione goes off into the deep end, now you–"

_Control yourself, Mr Potter._ Harry could almost hear the calm, chiming tones of the Divination Professor in his head. He counted to five, and cast a quick _Tempus_ with a flick of his wand, feeling his magic pulse reassuringly as always.

"Ron. I already said no."

"Ginny would resign if she knows you're coming back–"

"_No_, Ron." He involuntarily lashed out with his magic, and a weak wandless banisher shoved his former best friend to the wall. "It's OWL year. Voldemort is back. I need to study and prepare."

"Mate, you've gone mental," Ron shook his head. "Do you need me to take you to Pomfrey or something? The stress must be worse than I thought."

"I–am–not–mental." Harry ground out. He really, really wanted to reach out and strangle Ron with his bare hands, but he resisted the urge. "I'll say this once. If you can't accept that my priorities have changed, then, well–"

_Enough is enough. _

"Harry," Ron said pleadingly.

"See you around, Ron."

~~[q]~~

He met Hermione by the lake, a Saturday morning after breakfast.

"Ron told me you apologised to him too, then blew him off again." Hermione said simply. Dark circles were noticeable around her eyes, and it was clear she hadn't been sleeping well.

"I said I didn't want to rejoin the Quidditch team is all," shrugged Harry. "He can't seem to accept that it's the OWL year and we need to be focusing on our studies."

"He's just passionate about the sport, Harry. But enough about him; I'm worried about _you_."

"Me?"

"Yes, Harry," she spoke wearily. "Where have you been? I hardly ever see you around in the common room any more. It's not good to be alone all the time, you know."

_Why do you assume that I'll be alone if I'm not with you two?_

"I've been studying with Neville and some Hufflepuffs." Harry stated simply.

"Oh." Hermione's voice was flat. "Hey, you know something? I've been wanting to ask you if you were willing to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts."

_The universe is definitely screwing around with me now._

"I've been thinking about it," Hermione pressed on. "You have the most practical experience. And with the way Umbridge is now, nobody is being prepared for what's…for what's out there."

"Alright," Harry sighed. "_Hypothetically,_ if I agreed to do it, then who's going to be taught?"

Hermione visibly perked up. "Well, it'll be anybody who wants to practice, of course. I've been going around and gauging interest, and it seems there's quite a lot of people."

"Quite a lot of people." Harry said evenly. "Like, more than ten?"

"More than twenty," Hermione corrected. "It'll be good, don't you think?"

"No." Harry was to the point. "First, it'll be hard to coordinate that many people. Second, if so many people want to learn, there's nothing stopping you from forming study groups and practicing among yourselves. Third, I don't want to bring Umbridge down on our heads, especially not mine."

_Fourth, I barely have enough time to improve _myself_, let alone teach an entire class. And zeroth, I'm _already teaching_ DADA, in a manner of speaking._

"Harry…"

_I'm not going to be paraded like a freak in front of a crowd, Hermione. If my suspicions are right, you just want me to teach so that more people will show up, right?_

"No, Hermione." He stood up to leave. "I've apologized for everything else, but I'm certain on this."

_Boy, she's going to be mad when she finds out about the Club, isn't she? But until then, just count yourself unlucky that you got on my bad side at the wrong time, Hermione._

With that, Harry made his way back to the castle, his heart feeling significantly lighter. He had said what he thought was needed to be said, and that was enough for him for now.

* * *

_Thus, the "Harry is kind of a dick to two people who've supported him for the past four years" mini-arc finally ends. I would be glad if I never had to bloody type out the word "Quidditch" in this fic ever again. With that said, people grow and change, and sometimes you grow out of friendships too. I hope my first attempts at illustrating such a situation wasn't _too_ bad._

_Umbridge suspends clubs later here than in canon, because there is no DA meeting in the Hog's Head to overhear._

_Next time: we see the consequences of what Harry did to the Ravenclaws. _

_Review please!_


	14. Voyage 1969

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

* * *

**Chapter 12 – Voyage 1969**

Unfortunately, as Harry found out, people–the average, normal person–was quite resistant to changing their ways of thinking. The medium of the message, however, was in the form of an unceremonious shove into an empty classroom, on a day before lunch in the middle of October.

_What in Merlin's pants_ was his first reaction, before Harry's nascent battle-instincts overrode his surprise.

"_Stupefy! Colloportus!" _A Stunning Spell sank into his attacker's side, and a follow-up Locking Charm sealed the classroom door before any more potential enemies could come rushing in.

_Now, let's see who this is…_ Harry turned the body over, and noted the blue trim of the robes, as well as a familiar squarish, young-looking face, and short salt-and-pepper hair. _Terry Boot? Bloody hell, is this about the Luna thing? Well, in any case…_ He propped the unconscious student against the wall, before drawing his wand again.

"_Incarcerous. Rennervate." _

"Gah! Wait, what–why am I tied up?" The Ravenclaw looked wildly around, before his turn his face upon Harry.

"You tried to attack me, Boot," Harry said dryly. "Precautions needed to be taken."

"Oh, attack?" If Terry had his hands free, he would have been gesticulating with them, but as it was, he made do with motions of his head. "I just thought we should be a bit more clandestine. Don't want to be overheard, you know?"

_I see Luna's not the only Ravenclaw with quirks._ "And that means roughly shoving me into an empty classroom? Actually, never mind that. What do you want to tell me?" Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "You _didn't_ actually want to attack me, right?"

"No, no! It's just…well, I know it was you."

"So it's blackmail, then?" Harry raised his wand again. He didn't quite know how to cast an _Obliviate_ quite yet, at least not without possibly wiping the target's entire memory, but he couldn't think of any other immediate ways to keep it quiet.

"You know, I didn't actually _know_ for a fact that it _was_ you, but you just confirmed it." Seeing Harry advance menacingly, Terry spoke in a panicked tone again. "Wait, I didn't come here to blackmail you!"

"What, then." Harry did not advance further, but he did not lower his wand either.

"Overheard some Sixth-Years this morning. Said they thought that the whole thing was a joke and/or a prank, and that they were going to 'see to it that the kids know to respect their betters', or something like that."

"Doubling down, huh?" Harry said, thinking aloud. "Clearly Ravenclaw isn't the House of the smart."

"Though there is certainly some overlap between valuing knowledge and level of intelligence." A new voice sounded from the other end of the classroom, and–

_Front door and back door. Crap._

"_Expelliarmus! Colloportus!" _ The intruder dodged the Disarming Charm, but the classroom's back door sealed all the same.

_Disarming Charm has too many damn syllables, I really should be using–_

"_Stupefy Stupefy Stupefy!"_

_Target initial position first, then immediately to the sides. This won't work on people like Voldy or Dumbledore, since they have ridiculous reserved, but most experienced duellists will prefer to dodge rather than shield to save energy._ Sirius' simple yet enlightening piece of advice came back to him, and Su Li tumbled to the floor unconscious.

"Merlin's beard, Harry. You do realize we're trying to _help_ you, right?"

"Sorry, sorry," Harry said, actually sounding apologetic this time. "It's, uh, instinct, I guess."

"I can see now why Granger wanted you to teach Defence." Terry nodded. "You'd better revive Su before she gets too cranky."

"Fine. But apart from what you overheard, is there anything else?"

"Nope, that's about it. The main perps are–" Terry rattled off a series of names and physical appearances, to which Harry held up a hand, before getting out some parchment and hastily beginning to scribble.

"–and Gross is the Sixth-Year Prefect, but she turns a blind eye to it." Terry finished.

"Thanks, Boot." Harry rolled up the list of names and made to leave, before realizing–"Right, your friend. _Innervate._"

"You'd best thank her also. She helped with at least a quarter of this."

"Right. Uh, thank you, Li."

"You're welcome." The girl stuck out her hand in a thumbs-up gesture from the floor, sounding bored. "Be thankful that we didn't call in the cavalry. Oh, and take this as well." The girl flicked an a small object at him, and Harry, with honed reflexes, snatched it out of the air.

"A…Sickle? This is a comically small bribe, if it is."

"It's not a bribe, you prat." Terry sighed. "It's one of a pair. We change the inscription on our coin, by minor Transfiguration, and this heats up and changes as well to reflect it. Therefore, communication. I don't want people to get suspicious of us meeting so often, especially when we're not known to be close friends."

"Right. That's thoughtful." Harry nodded. "Thanks." On his way out, he noted the distinct presence of Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil looking over in his direction, to which he inclined his head respectfully.

It was not until he reached his next class that he realized–

_What did Terry mean, "Granger wanted me to teach Defence"? Morgana's sake, Hermione better not have dragged my name too deep into this._

And back in the classroom–

"I regret everything." Su had not bothered to get up, and spoke in the deadest of voices. "I can't believe your plan worked."

"No sign of recognition, which means he doesn't know about Granger's group." Terry mused. "Which means–"

"Still doesn't prove anything about _Potter_ having an army, Terry." Su pointed out. "What are the chances of _two_ secret groups–"

"I stand by my words," Terry said defiantly. "There's a schism in the Golden Trio, and I'm choosing my side."

"I swear your theories get wilder and wilder by the minute. Also, do you mind helping me up?"

Terry approached his friend, and extended a hand–

–and he promptly found himself dragged to the ground, pinned down by a pair of legs as his arm was stretched into a painful position. "Ouch, ouch! What are you doing?"

"Yes, Su, what on_ Earth_ are you doing?" Padma asked incredulously. She entered the room, and Anthony followed.

"Potter left, by the way." Anthony added.

"I'm teaching Boot a lesson for being dramatic." Su ignored Terry's groans of protest. "He got me Stunned, and now I have a headache."

"By all means, carry on, then." Anthony motioned. "Nice arm bar, by the way. Though, if I may suggest–"

"You can keep your Crafty Manga to yourself, Tony." The girl snarked in response, and Anthony rolled his eyes.

"I'm just saying, it's more _efficient_ than your Chinese voodoo. But suit yourself."

"_Boys_." Padma sighed. "That includes you, Su, and you'd better get off before Terry decides he enjoys being pinned down by you."

There was an "eep", and the girl seemingly teleported upright, with Terry breathing a heavy sigh of relief.

"So, Padma," Terry remarked, still catching his breath. "How goes it on the Granger front?"

From her pocket, Padma produced a single gold Galleon. "See for yourself."

~~[q]~~

A single look of dismay on Luna's face, a few days later, uncharacteristic of the air of contentedness that she had been exuding this past week, confirmed Boot's information.

"Harry, don't–"

"I'm going back in tonight and doing everything, again." Harry stated flatly. "I'm not even going to get anyone else–it'll be quick. Does the door only open for Ravenclaws?" He frowned, his mind jumping from possibility to possibility. "Sirius could get into Gryffindor with only the password, so as long as I can answer the riddle, I should be fine, right?"

_Boot was right, but it still may be a trap. I'll have to be careful._

"Yes, anyone who can answer can enter." Luna replied. "But, Harry Potter," her voice began to turn distant, "I don't think I should be closing my eyes and agreeing with this, even as much as I find myself wanting to sleep."

"It's fine. Just let me handle all of this."

"I knew you were going to say that." Luna sighed. "Just…tell me the nights when you're coming, so I can stay awake and nurse you back to health if need be."

Harry felt warmth creep up his cheeks, but he nodded anyway.

~~[q]~~

"Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Neville." Harry kept his voice calm, even as he turned to face his friend. "I thought you had gone to sleep?"

"I did want to turn in, but," Neville's hand trembled slightly, and Harry noticed the wand held within, "someone told me you'd be doing something stupid tonight."

"Really?" A vague sense of déjà vu came over him. "I wonder who that was."

"It was Luna herself." Neville shrugged. "She seemed to think you were risking yourself too much for her."

_Should have known Luna was the type to just agree and then do whatever she wants anyway. But still…_

"Which is why I'm coming with you."

"No."

"Yes." Neville's voice was firm. "I'm not an idiot, Harry. I saw how tired you were the first time you cast those Charms."

Now Harry remembered that old, familiar feeling, and Dumbledore's voice came to him: "It takes as much courage to stand up to your friends–"

"Yeah, okay." He gave an exaggerated, extended exhalation. "Come along, then." Then, in a more quiet voice–

"Thanks."

~~[q]~~

"_Diffindo._" There was a whisper of a spell, and the bottom of Luna's bookbag was torn open. Items spilled out, and the cracking of an inkwell dyed everything black.

Harry whipped his head around, spotting only a figure that was quickly departing in the crowd.

Every other night the past week he had slipped into the Ravenclaw Common Room, answering a different riddle each time, Summoning all of the stolen belongings and leaving a different (but similar) message each time.

The good news was that the pile got smaller and smaller each time, and he was getting _really_ good at _Accio_, both wanded and wandlessly.

The bad news was that the culprits now seemed to be satisfying their urges in a more…direct…manner.

_Though that could be good in itself. If I can force them into a direct confrontation, then beat them down, that should be enough to get them to stop…_

In the meantime, he knelt down and began casting _Scourgify_ and _Reparo_. "Hey, Luna."

"Yes?"

"Do you ever wonder why people would do such a thing? Hurting others for fun?"

"It is as you say, Mr Potter." A new voice, like the tinkling of a bell, entered the conversation. "It is, to them, fun. In what way such activities provide entertainment I do not know, but perhaps it is the enjoyment of a position of dominance, or curiosity as to the victim's reactions."

Harry looked up to find that the crowd had parted, allowing the Divination Professor and the Assistant Professor through. They were both carrying stacks of identical small wooden boxes, each about the size of a bento box. Merry set down the boxes on the ground, then took in the scene with an appraising eye.

"Professor Hearn, Professor Usami," Harry greeted, and Luna did the same.

"I would say 'good afternoon', but it isn't really, is it not?" Merry replied. "Miss Lovegood, I notice your bag has not yet been mended. Would you let me examine it?"

Luna handed it over, and Merry ran a hand over the bottom, tracing the split seam with her fingers. "A Cutting Charm, of course." She stared into space for a few moments more, before nodding in satisfaction. "Yes, that'll do."

"Merry," Renko had set her own boxes down, and by now a small crowd of students were beginning to form. "You can't possibly be thinking of…"

"A live demonstration, yes." She straightened, and opened the topmost box, withdrawing a small ceramic bowl, its lid, some wood for tinder and kindling, and a small woven bag, and finally, a box of matches.

"Fire-omens, Professor?" Luna enquired.

"Quick on the uptake, Miss Lovegood. Take five points to Ravenclaw." On the stack the bowl was set, and in no time at all a fire was lit. From the woven bag Merry pinched a small sprig, which she dropped into the flames, and the emitted smoke noticeably thickened. "Now," she muttered, "let's see…accounting for the Hogwarts' wards…"

There was definitely a crowd now, and Renko began to look mildly uncomfortable.

"Unicorn, yes, but that doesn't help." Maribel stared into the fire intently, and muttered to herself. "Don't know what that tree is either. The person…a girl…_fo_? _se_?Yes, I think I have it." She placed the lid on the fire and smothered it, then returned the items to the box. "Renko? Do you recall any female upperclassman whose name begins with _fo_ and _se_?"

Renko cleared her throat. "There is one. Sixth-year Ravenclaw, Claudia Fawcett."

"Shall we ask her some questions, then?" Merry's voice still held a lighthearted air. "Where do you think Miss Fawcett might be, presently?"

"Probably lunch." Renko's expression was unreadable.

"To the Great Hall we go, then. Mr Potter, Miss Lovegood, I apologise for troubling you both so, but would you take these boxes to the Divination classroom for me?"

Harry nodded his assent, and the two of them quickly took the stacks and left, leaving the fascinated, murmuring crowd behind.

~~[q]~~

It was a few days later, during a Club meeting, that the pair heard the entire story from Ernie, who had witnessed the whole thing.

"She just walked right up to the Ravenclaw table as if nothing was wrong, and said 'Miss Fawcett, may I examine your wand for a moment?'. Of course, Claudia asked why, and the Professor just said 'for traces of wrongdoing'."

"Wait, 'Claudia'? You know her?" Harry said.

"The Fawcett, Greengrass, and Macmillan families all have businesses in import/export." Ernie waved a hand. "Anyway, as I was saying, Claudia had no choice but to hand over her wand, and the Divination Professor just asked 'so, does anyone know how to get a last casted spell out of a wand?'"

"There's no way she doesn't know _Prior Incantato_." Hannah said, lying down on the mats. "Every kid knows about that spell."

"The Professor's not from around here, though." Neville pointed out from beside her. Harry inwardly frowned. _Is that really something everyone was expected to know?_

"In any case, she had this look of hope on her face before the Professor spoke something in another language and the _Prior Incantato _images appeared anyway." Ernie grinned. "The way her expression changed was amazing, I tell you."

"The Professor doesn't like bullies or pranks much, I can tell." Luna herself had a small smile on her face at this point. "Though she does like fucking with people slightly."

There was a sudden outbreak of coughing fits, and Harry yelped as Susan spat her water at him. "_Scourgify,_" Harry grumbled, and the water began to vanish from the mat and his clothes. _And you, Luna, are the same kind of person, aren't you?_

"In any case," Harry said, trying to move the conversation along, "I'm thinking of inviting more people to join us soon."

"Really?" Susan said. "Who?"

"That remains to be seen," Harry said cryptically. "Though we are short on blue, if you catch my drift." He took out the Sickle and toyed with it in his hand. _We didn't know about Fawcett, sorry_ had appeared when the coin had heated up last night, and a few back-and-forth exchanges were had where a promise to exchange more information was made.

Harry stuffed the coin back into his pocket. "Also, I have an idea about communication. I looked into this thing called a Protean Charm." It had been easy enough to guess at the concepts used, having knowledge of the end result, and asking the Charms Professor about "spells that synchronized changes across objects" had led to almost immediate results.

_Don't hesitate to steal ideas that are good. Don't hesitate to improve on stolen ideas._

"So I went and ordered some identical pocket mirrors. They won't allow you to talk face to face, not like the more advanced ones I've seen, but I'm working on a way that if you change the decoration on the back–" He stared at the Hufflepuffs, who were suddenly looking quite shifty. "What's the matter?"

"I don't think it's something you really need to know about, Harry." Susan said placatingly, or at least tried to.

"Nuh-uh." Harry shook his head. "I'll decide that for myself. Now, out with it."

Hannah relented first. "It's–it's about Granger. She–"

"She's organizing her own Defense group, and asking people to join, right?"

"So you knew already?" Hannah replied, clearly relieved.

"I can guess. I know her quite well, after all." Harry said neutrally. _And I talked to her. And the Ravenclaws told me._

As everyone looked at him expectantly to continue, Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why's everyone looking at me like that? I don't see how that affects us. You can join more than one study group if you want."

There seemed to be a collective exhale. "Of _course_ we can, Harry." Neville sighed.

The Club defaulted to practicing their usual repertoire after that, though Harry was considering what it meant that word of Hermione's group had spread that far.

~~[q]~~

Revelations about Hermione and Neville aside, the weeks began to settle back into familiar routine. Harry was soon finding out that the problem of Ravenclaw bullying was not as straightforward to solve as he thought it would have been.

Even with the Sickle, information was useless as the perpetrators never planned anything in advance, only sticking to small, spontaneous attacks. Worse still, after Merry's little intervention, it seemed that they wised up and were resorting to more roundabout methods.

There was also the matter of Divination not being all-powerful. "I was only able to get such a clear reading since the spell was so freshly cast," Merry had said. "In Hogwarts, with the amount of interference from so many magicals in one place, entropic decay of the magical trace occurs quite quickly. There's a reason why Divination isn't widely used everywhere, you know."

And so Harry had to make do with doing nothing. Protective spells could only last for so long (he had to regularly renew the Secrecy Charms he had cast on the Room of Requirement's entrance, and even that was power-intensive) and he did not have the necessary expertise to learn how to make or cast wards, not without even knowing the basics of Arithmancy nor Ancient Runes. (With Luna's experience in both, Harry reasoned that anything he could think of himself, she would already have done.)

It was not until one bright and clear Saturday morning that the answer dawned on him.

"Neville, what are the rules for a wizard's duel?"

"It depends," Neville grunted out. He was busy doing pull-ups from one of the thicker branches of an oak tree. "Traditionally there's no contact, which means no punching or kicking, and there's a Second to take over if you die, though the first doesn't apply on modern duelling circuits and the second mostly doesn't apply since people don't duel to the death formally nowadays." He dropped to the ground and exhaled. "Did somebody challenge you?"

"I'm thinking of challenging someone." Harry said.

"This is about the Luna thing again, isn't it?"

"Yes. Do you think they'd agree to stop if I beat them in a duel?"

"Most of these things are honor-based, but for the more traditional wizards, it's as good as a blood oath," Neville said. "Asking for the other party to be bound by magic is a grave disrespect. Or at least that's what I know, growing up."

"And what's this about swearing on blood and magic?" Harry asked.

"Oh, that? It's just a traditional saying. You won't actually be stripped of magic if you break the oath, but again, honour. Why?" Neville looked at Harry curiously.

"Malfoy challenged me to a duel in First Year," Harry mused. "Ponce didn't actually show up and sent Filch after me instead. Then we duelled in Second Year for real and he set a snake on me. And then…" Harry gazed across the lake. "Last year, Voldemort forced me to duel him in the graveyard."

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Just thinking." Harry said simply. "I think I'll challenge some bullies to a duel."

~~[q]~~

One of the leaders of the little escapade was Seventh-Year Prefect Victor Westcott, which Terry confirmed to be from one of the more traditional families, and it was he that Harry tracked down using the Marauder's Map, one quiet evening after dinner when he was alone.

"Harry Potter? I don't think we've met before." The tall boy looked at him curiously. "What do you want with me?"

"A duel," Harry said coldly, not bothering to conceal his hostility. "If I win, you'll stop bothering L– the younger students in your House. No, you'll stop bothering younger students, all of them, and you'll tell the rest of your little group of friends to stop as well."

There was a significant pause, before the Ravenclaw let out a chuckle. "Oh, you were referring to _that_. And I suppose _you_ were the one who…" He burst out laughing. "Very cute, though it's not as if we can prove anything at this point. Well then, I accept your terms. I won't even demand anything from you if I win. Time and place?"

His expression of curiosity had taken on a predatory tinge, much like a cat thinking of the ways it could eat a particularly juicy mouse.

_"Knowing that things will continue as they are if I win is good enough for me." That's what he's probably thinking._

"Trophy room, tomorrow midnight." Harry bit out. "Who's your Second?"

"I don't need any Second against you." The older teenager gave a condescending smile. "Of course, you are welcome to bring one–"

"Then I won't do so either. See you tomorrow, Westcott." Harry turned to leave.

"Looks like you really are as deluded as the _Prophet_ says, aren't you, Potter?"

Harry ignored the barb.

_After tomorrow, things will finally end. _

_I've been training to fight Voldemort. I've been training to fight Death Eaters. If I can't defeat a single bloody Seventh Year, I'm done for in either case._

~~[q]~~

At thirty minutes to midnight, Harry stepped out of the Gryffindor common room, and made his way to the trophy room, casting the usual suite combination of Quieting his footsteps and a Notice-me-not.

After his conversation a few days ago with Neville, he had taken it on himself to do some research, and found out the few reasons why Hogwarts' trophy room was apparently a prime spot for illegal student duelling.

Everything valuable was protected by wards. There were no portraits to tattle on you. Only a single exit in or out. Located in a secluded portion of the castle, where people couldn't stumble on you accidentally.

Harry strode through the deserted hallways, past the softly cracking torches and sleeping portraits.

A left turn here, a right here, up some stairs…

All with his wand held at his side at the ready, as he mentally rehearsed the spells he could use.

Disarming, Impediment, Stunning, Tripping. Not the Ribbon Cutter, that might accidentally kill, but _Concussus _was fair play. Wandless Summoning and its counterpart of Banishing.

Harry turned into a wide alcove, which opened up into an equally wide corridor, at the end of which lay the polished oak doors that led into the trophy room.

* * *

_Fire-omens. Merry, with Japanese as her first language, sees katakana instead of English alphabets. _

_The Israelis have a nifty martial art called Krav Maga, and though it wasn't specific, the Chinese martial art Su has some proficiency in is Yong Chun. _

_Hermione doesn't quite have the charisma to convince people to sign their names down officially._

_Just for fun: "Victor Westcott", which I needed to sound as pureblooded as possible, comes from the name of the Spiritmaster asterisk in _Bravely Default_, as well as one of the founders of the Golden Dawn in _Toaru.

_If this chapter seems all over the place, that's because it is. It was difficult to write, but we're finally at one of the major turning points.  
_

_Review please!_


	15. Flight of the Bamboo Cutter

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

* * *

**Chapter 13 – Flight of the Bamboo Cutter**

Many books had been written about the four houses of Hogwarts and their qualities, given that it was the oldest, biggest, and most famous school in Magical Britain. In the wizarding parlance of the country it was common to hear people use phrases like "his Gryffindor qualities" or "she's too much of a Raven(claw)", even for the minority that did not attend.

One such book discussed personality, and considered how each house's common qualities might be turned to malice. Slytherin was the most obvious: an excess of ambition was most commonly tied to a desire for wealth or power, magical or political or otherwise, and even the Sorting Hat knew to sing that members of the house may resort to any means to fulfill their ends.

The polar opposite of Gryffindor was different. The house valued bravery, and in courage lay the seeds of foolishness and recklessness.

Hufflepuff valued loyalty, and there were few motivations that could match the strength of an avenger, of a person mourning their friend. Alastor Moody, a Hufflepuff during his time in Hogwarts, who had been one of the most ruthless Aurors during the first conflict with Voldemort, had veered dangerously close to the domain of Dark magic after seeing many of his comrades perish.

Ravenclaw, however, valued knowledge. And as the author of the book had summed up in a single neat sentence, a Ravenclaw might turn to malice and commit acts unspeakable, simply because they wanted to see what would happen.

~~[q]~~

A single foot into the corridor, and Harry could feel it–the thin film of magic that resembled his favoured Cone of Silences.

He began to raise his wand in a preparatory stance, and stepped forward slowly, deliberately.

Doors to old classrooms, which had probably been untouched for decades, lay open to his left, and a solid door to his right. Seeing the neat rows of desks within, Harry raised his other hand, as well, preparing to Summon a physical barrier if the need arose.

_Wait, why am I being so wary? Isn't the actual duel itself supposed to be in the trophy room?_

_Tempus. _The spell came to mind, and the magic triggered.

Eleven and fifty. He was early.

Not as early, however, as his opponent.

"'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'" His voice quoted. "Are you familiar with the saying, Potter?"

"I've heard." Harry said neutrally. This was no time for banter, only the duel.

"Makes you kind of skint, doesn't it?" Victor Westcott stepped forth, emerging from an unused room right at the end of the corridor. So did Claudia Fawcett, and Jaimie Gross, and Marietta Edgecombe, and many others whose physical descriptions matched what Terry had given him.

_A trap. A bloody dammed trap._

Ten on one. Both in front and behind.

_Screw honour, of course they wouldn't have played fair._ _Of course that's why he agreed so easily._

"Well, low-level messing around with the kids was fun, but I think getting the truth out of you would be a bit more interesting, wouldn't it?" From Westcott's pocket he drew forth a single crystal phial, which contained a clear liquid–

_Veritaserum, the truth potion. So that's the plan, huh?_

"It's seldom that I come across such _fascinating_ opportunities, so–"

_The moment I attack, they're all going to cast as well, so shield immediately after. _Harry drowned out the words, and began thinking. _Target the weakest looking first–_

It seemed that Westcott was soon going to stop speaking, so before that–

"_Stupefy!"_ Harry picked a target and cast, and was immediately met with several answers. Some said _Impedimenta, _some said _Incarcerous,_ and some said _Stupefy_, but ultimately–

The last diagonal slash of the Stunning Hex flowed into a circular motion of– "_Protego!" _Harry shouted, and at the same time, raised a hand towards the abandoned classroom. "_Accio!"_

The wooden desk flew towards him, a solid material barrier that intercepted three spells and forced him to duck to avoid the last.

The entire exchange took about five seconds, and at the end of it Harry had five opponents and an active Shield Charm manifested to his right, and four opponents and a floating wooden desk, surface out and legs inward, to his left. His eyes rapidly darted from side to side, taking in every single twitch.

"Impressive, Potter." Westcott looked almost appreciatively to the fallen girl beside him. "Wandless magic simultaneously cast? Perhaps the Boy-Who-Lived title has something special to it after all. But how–"

_Breathe, rest, get ready to strike again before he finishes speaking, I never know why I have to wait for people to monologue ever, don't bother with fancy stuff just Stun and Shield and dodge–_

_"Stupefy!" _Harry broke his own Shield Charm and went on the offense again. "_Stupefy Stupefy Stupefy!"_

More spells of different colours came, and Harry could see them, _feel _them, hear the song of magic in the air clear as the pain and grief he had been feeling since where it all began–

He dodged a few more, danced to the tune, rotated himself and his wooden shield to intercept, and he noted–

_Need a tiebreaker since they seem to be shielding each other as well, so use the Concussion Hex, but silence it so you don't deafen yourself and close your eyes when it goes–_

A spiral twirl and a jab aimed to the ceiling, then the two slashes for the next. "_Concussus! Silencio!"_

_Hunker down and cover yourself in the delay, then–_

A collective groan accompanied the insides of his eyelids blazing a bright pink, and he sprang up– "_Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy stupefy–"_

_Don't slow down, you can feel the spells coming so dodge, you can feel where they are so aim, don't even bother to look–_

The crackle of spells passing above his skin, the thumps of bodies slumping to the ground, the hum of Shield Charms materializing–

_Rear guard now all down. Retreat slightly backwards._

Only four left, and they were all turtling behind shields. Harry did not even notice that Westcott had fallen, did not even notice the expressions of uncertainty that had crept onto the faces of those still standing.

_Vary tactics. _Protego_ only blocks spells, so in that case–_

"_Depulso! Incarcerous!_ _Stupefy! Stupefy!"_ The desk flew forth, crashing into two, and ropes appeared to bind them all together, after which they were both Stunned.

And then there were two.

The girl dropped her Shield and yelled "_Stupefy!"_ in a desperate cry, which Harry idly batted back.

Her partner went down.

_One left._

"D-don't hurt me!" She was now cowering in obvious fear.

"_Stupefy."_ With an air of finality Harry cast his last spell, and then there were none.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he looked around the now deserted corridor. A bead of sweat detached itself from his chin and landed softly on the stone floor.

_Hmm, what now? Nothing to do but leave? _

His eyes spied a clear phial on the ground.

_Oh, and I guess I should probably take this Veritaserum. Don't want any of it making its way into my food._

Finally, he stood to leave. Oh, there probably would be consequences, but he was too tired to care at this point.

It wasn't all the spellcasting, either. It was the–

_Thinking, the split second decision-making, the dance on the edge of survival and defeat. Yeah, that's probably why_.

Then, as Harry stepped over an unconscious girl, he felt something in his mind, like a stroke of inspiration except as a flash of warning–

"_Stupefy."_

The quietly murmured spell hit Harry in the leg, and his vision turned black.

~~[q]~~

When Harry came to, he was still in the same place, but his arms were bound to his sides in the ropes of an _Incarcerous_, and his wand was in the hand of his captor.

Searching his memory, he matched the appearance to the name–

_Marietta Edgecombe. She must have pretended to be Stunned. I'll have to look out for that next time._

There was also a pleasant haze suffusing his thoughts, and the vial of clear potion was open, so–

_Merlin's sake, I've been drugged._ He noted that he was a lot calmer than he had any right to be, and concluded that maybe practicing Occlumency may have helped him to resist the potion to some degree.

"Alright, out with it, Potter." Edgecombe sat cross-legged in front of him. Harry noted that she had a nice figure, and that her face was good-looking, but not that good-looking. In lieu of a question being asked, he wasn't that compelled to speak, so he continued to stare at her.

"Really, you're not going to say anything?" she said incredulously.

"I cannot give to the answers to questions which you haven't asked." Harry replied.

_Well, I need to tell the truth, but it appears I can still affect the answers somewhat. Neat._

"You little–argh, let's go with this. What actually happened at the end of last year, Potter?"

"The Leaving Feast." Despite the situation, Harry felt a smile rise to his face.

"You're a bastard, aren't you? What actually happened when you touched the Cup?"

In lieu of the girl's lack of specificity, he could have had several different answers ranging from "I took a sip of water" to "The Gryffindor Quidditch team was cheering", but–

_But I do want to tell the truth about what happened. The whole point is that I'm _not_ the one that's been lying thus far. _

"I got transported to a graveyard, since the Triwizard Cup was a Portkey."

"Lies." Marietta spat. "Dammed lies. How can you say that Voldemort is back?"

"Because I saw his resurrection with my own two eyes." Harry stated simply. "He rose out of a cauldron with a potion Peter Pettigrew brewed for him. He had red eyes, pale skin, and slits where his nose should be–"

"Shut up!" The girl was clearly shaking. "How do I know you haven't been Confounded, or had your memories tampered with?"

"I've been practicing Occlumency. I would notice if someone has been messing with my mind, and I would also notice if my mind has been messed with previously."

_Clearly, I can't choose _everything_ that I can say. I hope she doesn't pry too much into that._

"Occlumency? Why the hell do you know that, anyway?"

"I learnt it to try and control my nightmares."

"As if someone as pampered as you would have nightmares. You probably just want everyone to think Voldemort is back so you can live off your fame more." Marietta snorted.

"I have had nightmares since the end of last year, when Cedric Diggory was killed in front of my very eyes, and when Voldemort captured me and duelled me in front of his Death Eaters. Voldemort put me under the Cruciatus Curse, too. Almost every night I have been dreaming of those events, wishing I could have been stronger to save Cedric or even defeat Voldemort by myself altogether, dreaming of what Voldemort would do next–"

"You're still lying! He can't be back!"

"I am under the influence of Veritaserum, which means that whatever I say is truth as I know it." Harry said. "And as for me being pampered, I live with my Muggle relatives, who have been using me like a House-Elf from the time I was old enough to use a frying pan. I can't believe people believe that I'm some sort of pampered prince when I spent all of my life before Hogwarts being spit upon and abused."

Marietta was shaking her head. "No. No. This potion probably isn't working. Or your so-called Occlumency must be interfering with it. I'll just have to give you more." She reached for the vial to uncork it–

"There they are!"

"_Stupefy!" _

A red bolt of light slammed into Marietta Edgecombe's back, at which she slumped over. Seizing his chance, and trying his best to shake off the cotton wool of the truth potion from his mind, Harry wandlessly summoned his wand to his hand and contorted his wrist.

"_Diffindo!"_ The Severing Charm cut cleanly through the ropes binding him, but also left a gash on his chest.

_Bandage wound, ignore pain–_

_"Ferula!"_ Bandages leapt into existence and wrapped around his shoulder and chest, staunching the bleeding as Harry sprang upwards and readied himself for another fight.

"Merlin's pants, Harry." Terry's hands were raised in a gesture of surrender. "Don't worry, we're friendly." He looked at the pile of bodies. "What the hell happened here?"

"I fought the people on the list you gave me, but then went down to a sneak attack from Edgecombe who was playing dead. She then fed me Veritaserum in an attempt to try and wring the truth of last year out from me."

"So you're still under the effects of the truth potion?" Su questioned.

"Yes." Harry gritted out. "Which is why I would highly prefer that questions be kept to a minimum."

"Incredible." Terry spoke again. "So is You-Know-Who really back?"

"Yes. I saw him, I fought him." Harry snapped out.

_Shit, I didn't mean for that to come out that harshly._

The two conscious Ravenclaws looked at each other, then at the corridor full of unconscious bodies.

"I say fought, but it was more of 'survive'." Harry added, understanding the conclusion that the two were about to come to.

Terry's face noticeably darkened, while Su began muttering in Chinese dialect under her breath, in low and dire imprecations.

"I can feel the potion beginning to wear off, so I can speak more freely now. I would still appreciate if you knew how to heal this wound, though. As well as find some way to keep it all quiet. Also, to be fully truthful, I was the one that challenged Victor Westcott to the duel first, though I wasn't expecting an ambush."

"Nobody expects an ambush, that's why it's called that," Terry muttered darkly. "Su, go back and get Tony and Padma. I'll heal Potter and send him back, then think of _something_." At Su continuing to swear under her breath, he spoke more forcefully. "Su, _go_!"

The girl seemed to come to herself, and left, while Terry reached a hand to steady Harry. "Right," he spoke mechanically, "most simple wounds can be closed using _Cura Vulnera_, but I'll have to remove the bandages first. _Finite._" The bandages disappeared, and the Ravenclaw boy began tracing the wand over the line of the gash. "_Cura Vulnera. Cura Vulnera. Cura Vulnera._"

It took a surprisingly short amount of time. "All done. It's a bit difficult to do since it's all intent, but my grandmother made everyone learn it after…well, it doesn't matter. And for future reference, a strong enough _Finite_ or even _Evanesco_ vanishes the ropes as well."

Harry nodded automatically. "Thanks. But why are you even helping me out like this?"

"There's several reasons, most of which are dumb, and not all of which I can share." Terry said, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "Mostly, if you have some sort of secret group you're running to fight Voldemort, I'm looking to join."

"Really? That's the reason?" Harry said, a mite incredulously.

"I told you most are dumb." Terry shrugged.

"Well, as it stands, I _do_ have this study group, which I _am_ trying to keep secret–"

"Oh, I am going to rub this in _everyone's_ faces," Terry's eyes lit up, then dimmed. "But I don't really have the mood for it since you just doubly confirmed that You-Know-Who is back."

Harry struggled for a reply, before settling on one. _Well, I did say I need more blue around. But before that…_ "What are you going to do? I've been trying to not agitate Umbridge, but if she finds an excuse to expel me–"

"First, illegal dosing of potions is quite serious. Second, you just confessed, _under Veritaserum_, that, well, yeah. Just don't worry about it." He looked again at the unconscious bodies of his housemates, some of which were beginning to stir. "You'll probably have to serve a few detentions with Umbridge nonetheless, to soothe their egos, but it's better than being expelled. We don't want to upset the status quo unless we know what we're doing."

_Status quo? Soothing egos?_

Harry just looked blankly at Terry. "I–Sorry, but I think I'm too tired to understand."

"Just go to bed, Harry."

~~[q]~~

In the eyes of the British Ministry of Magic, Veritaserum was a Class Five controlled substance, where the levels went from one to six in increasing order of severity.

Two known Class Six substances were Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears, substances said to represent death and life respectively on the conceptual level of magic itself.

In other words–

While Veritaserum wasn't _quite_ truth in a bottle, it came pretty damn close.

And when combined with magical and mental exhaustion, in the aftermath of Harry's first real duel, when traces of it lingered in his system, subtly pointing it towards the shadowed faces of his subconscious–

Harry sat upright in his bed, shaking, sweating–

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches–_

He felt frozen in time, frozen in space–

_Born to those who had thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies–_

With the spectre of death and inevitability loomed over him, with rage and fear that was both his and not his at the same time–

_Where's the rest of it? __**Where's the rest of it?**_

At the same time, another part of him was thinking, another part of him was coming to the realization–

_I failed. How am I going to fight the Death Eaters? How am I supposed to defeat Voldemort?_

_How am I going to do that, when I went down so easily to some students –a little boy– who were still in school?_

_This cannot continue._

_This isn't enough._

So Harry's thoughts went around, in an endless spiral, until he collapsed from exhaustion once more, his wand still clutched in his hand.

~~[q]~~

"Harry? If you don't wake up soon, you're going to miss breakfast."

Hands were shaking him awake, and Harry rose, still feeling as exhausted as if he hadn't slept. Words then began to register in his mind.

"Wait, miss breakfast?" He turned to look at Neville properly. "You let me _sleep in_?"

"I couldn't wake you up." Neville said. A line of worry was creasing his brow. "So I figured you were too tired and let you sleep."

"Next time, wake me up even if it kills me," grumbled Harry.

"Sure thing," Neville said. "But you mind telling me what happened last night? Because when I was coming back just now…"

~~[q]~~

"Detention, Mr Potter." Umbridge bore down on him, as soon as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast. "Every weekday for the next three weeks, five o'clock, at my office, starting tonight." Her face was smug. "I would have thought that you had finally learnt your lesson about not telling lies, but it appears the message has not yet sunk in."

"May I at least ask what I was accused of, Professor?"

"Please do not pretend to be coy, Mr Potter. You left Miss Edgecombe in quite a state last night. Terrorising the poor daughter of an honest employee of the Ministry is quite unbecoming of you." The pink-clad woman tittered. "In fact, let's make that _four_ weeks, shall we?"

"I see." Choosing to not waste his breath any further, Harry stalked off towards the Gryffindor table to have his meal. He sensed that he was going to need all the energy he could get.

Throughout the rest of the day, the atmosphere at Hogwarts seemed to be filled with a strange tension, a taut wire with a hundred pounds at each end. The rumour of last night's events seemed to have spread like chain lightning, jumping from one target to the next, leaving its own quiet mark on each individual.

Harry decided he would not call a meeting this week, not until the dust settled.

"You probably shouldn't be hanging around me, you know." He told Neville, who had so far been watching him as if he was going to drop dead at any moment. (To be fair to Neville, his assumption was probably more accurate than Harry himself would like to think.)

"I'll do what I want." Neville said firmly. "Besides, you didn't look so good this morning. And," he dropped his voice to a quieter tone, "people have been saying that you beat eight Ravenclaws in a duel, then confessed to facing down Voldemort under Veritaserum."

"As far as rumors go, that's actually quite accurate for once." Harry mused idly. "Though it was ten, not eight."

"Is that why you were asking me about duels?" Neville put the pieces together. "It was, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Harry said wearily. Spotting Hannah and Ernie making their way over to him, Harry gave another sigh. "Neville, do me a favour and tell them it's more or less correct. I'm too tired to speak at this point."

"You really should be telling them yourself, though."

"Like you said, I did just fight ten people and underwent a forced Veritaserum interrogation last night, and I'll have to go to a detention to cut my hand open later. Thanks, Neville." Harry walked off before Neville could say anything more."

"Wait, 'forced interrogation'? Harry, what happened? Harry!"

~~[q]~~

_I must not tell lies._

_I must not tell lies._

_I must not tell lies._

He was in Umbridge's office, and the evening seemed to drag on without end. The whole thing, Harry thought, was already a waste of time. Valuable, valuable time, in which he could have been facing off against more simulacrums in the Room, and honing his skills to defeat Voldemort.

In lieu of everything he couldn't do at the moment, Harry thought.

Occlumency lessons with Merry had been postponed to the end of the week, as she had told him after Monday's usual Divination class.

He needed to invite Terry (and probably Su) to the club, soon, and ask them to set up Protean-Charm-based methods of communication, coins or mirrors–he was quite sure that with how blatant Hermione was being, Umbridge would notice what she was doing soon enough.

He also needed to know _what exactly had been done_ such that he was 'only' let off with a month's detentions. Again, he needed the Ravenclaws.

_I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies._

He could feel it, now, how the magic of the quill tore into the back of his hand and took his blood. Like threads in the air, like notes in a song.

He wondered if he could change it, manipulate it somehow.

Would _Cura Vulnera_ heal these? He doubted it. But it had healed a wound from the Cutting Charm, so maybe?

Harry briefly considered trying to manipulate the magic of the quill outright, since he could very clearly feel it interacting with him, but he decided against it.

Such things needed focus, which he could _not_ summon in good capacity right now. It had been less than twenty-four hours since the actual duel, after all. And he was tired, and his mind was just randomly drifting from thought to thought, in lieu of being that pure thunderbolt of intention that he had come to associate with wandless magic–

"Let's see if you got the message yet, shall we?" Umbridge's sickly-sweet voice cut into his reverie, and Harry stood and made his way over to Umbridge's desk.

After a "you may go", Harry left without another word.

Outside the office, however, the day presented him with another surprise, which he _really_ should have expected.

"Hey, Luna. What're you doing here?"

"What do you think, Harry Potter?" The girl drifted over to walk by his side, and they continued on the path back to Gryffindor Tower. For a while, neither of them spoke, before Luna finally said:

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Well," Harry said jokingly, "if they stopped taking your things and hexing you in the hallways, then this was probably a victory for us, right?"

"Harry, you got a month's detentions with Umbridge. And you got poisoned by Marietta Edgecombe." She spun around and grabbed his shoulders, and stared him in the eyes. "You–you could have been spilling your secrets for the entire Hogwarts to hear! It's not about victory or not, but what could have happened!"

In spite of everything, of all of his fatigue, of the nightmares that were sure to come later, Harry grinned, a cheeky smile. "But it didn't happen."

"I increased the possibility of it happening." Luna's expression was odd, a superposition of states of stilted deadness and being on the verge of tears. "I made a decision, to tell you, to ask you for help, even though I knew that I should have handled it myself. In doing so, I–"

"Put you in danger? Is that what you were going to say?" Harry gave a furtive look around, before steering the both of them into a nearby classroom. "You do know Voldemort's after me _personally_, right? Any more danger's like a drop in the bucket, really."

"It's still not fine." Luna said, beginning to choke the words out.

"Yeah, it's not." Harry abruptly changed tack, and he saw the girl momentarily stiffen in surprise. "You put me in danger, indirectly, by asking for help. I put myself in danger, directly, by challenging a Seventh-Year to a duel. Several older Ravenclaws put me in danger, even more directly, by casting spells at me. And you know what?"

"This isn't something that–"

"I do not care." Harry cut across Luna's words, again. "I'm going to void _all_ of it. I'm not blaming the Ravenclaws, and I'm certainly not going to blame you. Heck, I'm not even going to blame myself for being, in hindsight, bloody reckless, though I'm definitely going to be more suspicious of ambushes the next time round, _and_ I'll tell someone else in case something happens. But blame? That's dumb. I don't have energy to spare blaming people. I just want everything to be over so I can live in peace." _And "everything" includes Voldemort, but I don't need to say that out loud,_ Harry thought.

Seeing as a retort was rising to Luna's lips (and noting happily that she at least now looked more angry as opposed to sad), Harry quickly spoke again. "Look, you could mope around trying to convince me that it's your fault, and I could angrily and dramatically go 'no, it's not!', and we could go on for hours, but I can think of several better things that we could do all night. You're a Ravenclaw who's supposed to be smarter than this, and I'm not as direct as the average Gryffindor, so can we just stop this whole argument already?"

Silence descended upon them both.

It was Luna who spoke first. "I should have known this was going to happen. This is ridiculous." She huffed. "In fact, now that I think of it, _you_ were the one that said that if I didn't care that I was being hurt, then you would _care for me_, right?"

"I don't remember those exact words," Harry tried to keep his face straight. It was technically true: he was, and had been, running on autopilot for most of the day, and he didn't want to begin the energy-consuming activity of rummaging through his memories at this point. Even now the exact words of his impassioned speech to Luna eluded him; he had mostly just been speaking from the heart, with a touch of ham deliberately to provoke the girl's emotions.

"Perhaps that was too much to hope for," Luna remarked. "Well, I think you've had enough for a day, Harry Potter, so I'll let you and myself go, for now." Examining the way the boy was struggling to keep his eyelids open, she sighed to herself.

_Oh, there was going to be a reckoning. More of a reckoning than there is already. But–_

She drew the boy into a tight hug, the ones where she always felt him freeze up, then tiptoed slightly to plant a kiss on his cheek. Disengaging, she saw that he had barely responded.

"Well, we had better get you back before you fall asleep on me altogether."

* * *

_The "Harry takes Veritaserum" portion was inspired by BajaB's _Veritas Oracle_, a fic with the premise of, well, Harry taking the truth potion. It's a good fic which I would definitely recommend._

_I hope you enjoyed Harry's duel with the Ravenclaws. Comments regarding the flow would be appreciated, since it's my first real fight scene that I've written. _

_With this, _Changeability_ passes 50k words. Is that a milestone? In any case, thanks to everyone who's been sticking around thus far, and let it be known that I appreciate every single comment that's been given._

_Remember, this isn't over until Harry resolves an Incident in Gensokyo, which means we still have a ways to go. I hope you'll continue following Harry's journey until then.  
_

_Review please!_


	16. Extend Ash

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

* * *

**Chapter 14 – Extend Ash**

"So _this_ is where the magic happens, colloquially speaking?" Terry looked around the Divination classroom impassively, while Su did the same without comment.

From his tone of voice Harry gathered that Terry was not particularly impressed, and for some reason, he felt oddly defensive. "It's not about the room, but the people," he felt himself say. "In any case, there's a few things that I'm going to say before we start today, apart from announcing you both. Also," he brandished the Secrecy Scroll, "sign this."

"What?" The Ravenclaw boy snatched the scroll and examined it with a critical eye. "What does it do?"

"Makes it so that you can't reveal the club's existence accidentally, whether through speaking or being Legilimized."

"You really taking _opsec_ quite seriously, huh?" Terry was about to reach for his quill, when Su reached out and placed a hand on his wrist. "Eh?"

The black-haired girl stared down Harry. "Potter, you do realize that we only have your word as to what it does, right?"

Harry debated arguing, or an appeal to emotion or honour, but he suspected that none of those tactics would work. Instead, he began by pointing out a simple fact. "You have the list. You know who signed and who's in. It would not be fair to those that have already signed for you not to."

"But," he held up a hand and continued, "that's not really an argument, so if you're still not certain, you should get some insurance. Write a note to yourself and pass it to someone who's not Terry, to be opened in case of emergencies, for example."

"But the mere fact that you are suggesting this contingency suggests that you could have accounted for it already, if you plan to deceive us." Su pointed out.

"Su, it's _Harry Potter_." Terry whined. "You don't think–"

"No, she makes a good point. There's no point in you joining if you cant trust me. So…"

"Oh, Morgana's sake." Terry reached over and signed, an oddly neat signature in contrast to his usual manner of thought.

"Morgana's sake indeed." Su rolled her eyes and followed suit, etching three blocky runes onto the page. "There. And if this is some sort of trick, may my ancestors strike you down."

"Duly noted." Harry rolled up the scroll. "And thank you." He added, more gently.

_Just in time, too. _He noted to himself as the Hufflepuffs began to enter. Susan raised an eyebrow at the two new additions, but said nothing.

Surprisingly, nobody raised any questions regarding the two Ravenclaws, not throughout the evening's entire session of Stunning Spell and Impediment Jinx practice. The pair blended in surprisingly well, which is to say that no big arguments occurred and a general air of cordial politeness was maintained.

_Hopefully, everyone will warm up in time. The group needs to be cohesive for it to be an effective team._

…_wait, why is it so important that the team is effective?_

Harry shook his head and cleared his mind of the strange thoughts, then motioned to a tired-looking Neville to his right. "Want to see something funny?" he said, and Neville nodded.

"Hey, Sue!" he called. From the left side of the classroom Susan Bones looked over from where she was dominating Terry Boot, and from the right side of the classroom Su Li looked over from where she was deftly avoiding Hannah Abbott's rapid but inaccurate jinxes.

"What?" The both of them called out. This was then followed up by the identical change in expressions as both girls were struck by their respective opponents before they crumpled to the ground in _Stupefy_-induced unconsciousness.

Neville snorted. "Very amusing, Harry."

"I'm glad you appreciated it." Harry said dryly. "Let's go, we're up."

A few more rotations after saw the end of the session and the group seated in chairs roughly arranged in a circle.

Harry decided to answer the obvious, unspoken question, in a manner as direct as possible.

"Terry and Su will be joining us from today."

There were a few seconds of silence, and then Ernie spoke. "Really, Harry? That's it? That's the whole welcome?"

"Hey, this isn't any formal club or anything." Harry defended. "It's just supposed to be a few friends meeting up to practice Defence. But," he added, "there's one thing I would like to do."

He once again extracted the Sickle, the one that had been used to pass information to him, and flicked it in a vague direction. It flew a few feet before returning to his hand, a silver stringless yoyo powered by wandless magic.

"Enchanted coins. I had an idea about using mirrors, but in the end, it's suspicious if you're caught with a special mirror in your pocket, hence the coin instead. How it works: you link two coins with a Protean Charm, then changes made to one will be reflected in the other." He looked over at Terry. "Can you–"

The boy knew what Harry was thinking, for he was already counting. "Eight. I don't know, Harry, the Protean Charm is a NEWT-level spell, and I'm not sure if–"

"If Granger can do it, so can you, Terry." Su curtly cut in. "We'll get the coins ready by the next meeting."

The rest just watched the exchange bemusedly, before Ernie spoke up. "Why all the secrecy, Harry?"

"Because the Ministry of Magic is interfering at Hogwarts." Harry did not feel like saying Umbridge's name, because his hands always tended to curl into a choking grip whenever he thought of the foul woman. "They don't want Defence taught, for some asinine reason, which means that if anyone catches wind of us, even if it's not breaking the rule _yet_, we might get into trouble."

"And the _other_ group of people learning Defence on their own time aren't being too subtle, either." Susan added.

"Exactly." Harry nodded. "It'll only be a matter of time before we'll be forced to do this illegally. And that brings me to the _other_ reason, sort of, as to why I'm doing this, and it also ties in with what happened the past Monday."

There was a palpable sense of anticipation in the air. "The reason as to why I'm doing all this is simple: Voldemort is back." Harry saw the group recoil at the name, and pressed on. "It's not just about passing OWLs, though that'll be a nice bonus. It's because, even though I hope that none of you would ever need to fight, you need to learn how to defend yourselves."

"But what does this have to do with Monday?" Hannah asked.

Harry gave a tired sigh. "Because someone drugged me with Veritaserum, and under its influenced I confessed that Voldemort is back." Harry outlined the events of the duel, up until the end at which he was found and healed by Terry, omitting details about his nightmares and upbringing.

Instantly the diminutive girl shot to her feet and started speaking again, now in a much more agitated tone of voice. "You used the Wound-Healing Charm? Without any diagnostics first? Are you–that's dangerous!" Hannah exclaimed.

"Okay, counterpoints. Firstly, the wound was too big just for a single _Episkey, _and secondly, I only used it to close the thing and stop bleeding, and thirdly, I've had sufficient practice–" Terry defended.

"That's not up to you to judge!"

"Can someone explain to me _why_ that was dangerous? Though now I do now understand why wizards don't just heal everything instantly." Harry spoke up.

"Magical contamination from external sources can cause arcane reactions that lead to infection of magical maladies and other problems." Hannah turned to him and summed up, speaking several degrees quicker than her normal self. "That's why healers always need good OWLs and NEWTs: they need to be very, _very_ precise in their spellcasting so they don't accidentally make their patients worse off! It's easy to cast a Bone-Mending Charm to heal a fracture, but if you heal it wrongly you might–"

"All right, all right, I get the picture." Terry raised his hands in a gesture of supplication, and Susan laid her hand on Hannah's shoulder and gently guided her best friend back to sitting down.

"Hmm, I guess we learnt something today." Harry muttered to himself. To the group, he spoke. "Any more questions, while I'm taking them? After today I don't want to talk about it ever again, so get it out of the way here and now."

"Harry, do you need me to call my Aunt?" It was Susan, who still had a hand on Hannah's shoulder.

"What for?"

"You've been _illegally drugged with Veritaserum_, Harry. That's a very serious offence, which would probably get Marietta expelled, as well as start an entire inquiry–"

"And Umbridge would sooner expel me for duelling. No, it's fine." He looked over at Terry. "I want to trust you. You said that some sort of 'deal' was made, right?"

"Yes." Terry met his eyes. _Mutually assured destruction, along with plausible deniability that a single Fifth-Year had not defeated several pureblooded Seventh-Years in a duel._ That was how Padma had explained it to him, and he had accepted it; he did not care for the politics of the matter and he wasn't about to start now. "I think Padma Patil would explain it to you if you wanted. Besides, the whole 'Voldemort is back' confession kind of distracted everyone, so here we are."

Harry rubbed his temples. His head was beginning to pound from lack of sleep. "That seems fine…I think." _Stupid little people and their stupid little games. See if it still matters when the Dark Lord comes to your doorstep. _

To Susan, he just said: "And that's that, I suppose."

The girl tugged at her braid in an unconscious gesture, but seemed to accept his answer. And finally–

"How did you even find Harry in the first place? Did you know where he was going?" Luna piped up.

There was a moment of silence as everyone processed the gap in the tale, before the Ravenclaw boy spoke up, yet again.

_Sorry to put you through the inquisition._ Harry mentally apologised.

"Well..." he was more hesitant this time, "we sort of…put a Tracking Charm…on–"

_And I immediately retract my apology._

"You put a Tracking Charm on the Sickle?" Harry exclaimed incredulously. _Mad-Eye Moody would go mental if he knew I let myself get tracked so easily._ "Why the _hell_–"

"Curiosity! Just curiosity!" Terry raised his hands in surrender yet again. "I'll take it off now–"

Harry sighed. "Just keep the damn thing. It did save me from a potion overdose, after all." Harry flicked the coin over, where it hit the boy with an audible thud on his chest. (Unconscious use of the Banishing Charm was not to be ruled out.) "And with that, I thinkwe can call today's meeting to a close. See you next week, same time."

As the members stood, Harry turned to leave. A sweeping gesture with his arms on the way out returned the chairs to their stacked positions by the wall, and he disappeared out the doorway.

"That was some welcome," Su muttered on the way out. "C'mon, Terry."

As Luna made to follow her fellow Ravenclaws back, Neville motioned for her to stay.

"Neville Longbottom," she spoke, when it was the two of them left. "What is the matter?"

"Luna." Neville said. He looked around one more time, to check that they were alone, then spoke quietly. "I think you know already, but Harry likes you, and not just as a friend." Not _I think Harry likes you,_ but _Harry likes you_, as if it was fact and not conjecture.

The blonde turned her face downwards and away.

"I also know you're a more complicated person than you seem." Neville continued speaking. "But he fought ten Ravenclaws for you, and lately his eyes only seem to light up when he mentions you. He's also a straightforward person who'll step in to save anyone he sees in pain. So," and Neville tried to steel himself, "if you do anything to hurt him, I'll come after you." The threat was clumsy, but the intent was clear.

"I asked him to help." Luna said, still not looking directly at Neville. "And he said yes. The day right afterwards, right after his detention with Umbridge, I went and apologised to him, because I thought it was my fault, and he said it was fine, that he didn't care, that he would 'void it all'."

"Sounds like him." Neville nodded.

"I know you're his best friend now, after Ronald proved to be less than understanding of his destiny. And," Luna stared him down, "I like him too, and if you tell him that I'll show you the true terror of the Lovegoods. So if _you_ let anything happen to him…"

Neville involuntarily took a step back. A pureblood's family magics were supposed to be kept hidden, either as trump cards or trade secrets, and the Lovegoods had been notorious for dabbling in unusual and arcane.

"Do you want help?" Neville eventually ventured, after a few moments of silence.

At this, Luna gave a short burst of laughter. "Somehow, that just feels unfair to me."

~~[q]~~

"Mr Potter, I see that a great weight seems to have lifted off your shoulders." Merry said conversationally.

"Uh, yeah." Harry gave a half-hearted reply. After all, it was true, in a sense.

"It is apparent in both your mannerisms and magic. After all, you seem to have abandoned your brute-force shielding of the past weeks for a wiser and more precise approach." Merry continued. "One wonders what secret you desperately wanted to hide previously which now no longer matters."

Harry began to sweat. _Professor Merry's still a professor, but she seems pretty unorthodox. She wouldn't report me…right?_

"Then I find myself hearing certain rumors this week. Which leads me to say…" Merry suddenly brought her palms down on her desk, a sharp slam that made her teacup jitter in its saucer and Harry jump in his seat. "…_what were you thinking, Mr Potter?_ Were you even thinking at all?"

Harry flinched at the remark. _The only other time I've seen her angry is when she cursed Umbridge. _

"Ten students, Mr Potter. Ten students more advanced than you." Merry shook her head. "You survived through sheer, dumb luck. It was luck that the students you fought were more well versed in theory as opposed to the practical aspect of magic. It was luck that there were objects present for you to wandlessly summon. It was luck that individuals were interested enough in you to track you down."

_Wait, she saw the whole thing? I thought I successfully kept her out of my mind this time–_

"You are unused to precision after a long time spent on brute force," Merry said, as if reading his thoughts. "And you were more relaxed today. You left plenty of holes in your defense."

Harry's head drooped further.

"I expected better from you, Mr Potter. While it is true that you achieved what you set out to achieve, the fact remains that you simply just stopped thinking after you found your first acceptable solution. Then again, I am glad to see that you have already considered what you did incorrectly."

The last sentence took some out sting out of the disappointment expressed, which seemed to hurt more than any outright reprimand.

"I'm sorry, Professor." There was nothing else he could say.

"You don't need to apologise to me." Merry said, now more gently. "You just need to learn from your mistakes and keep moving forward."

_Easier said than done, when everything is trying to kill you. Like you said, it's all –the escape was– because of luck, isn't it? _

_This cannot continue. _

Harry's brow tightened, a gesture almost impossible to notice. All of a sudden, he felt the need to be alone. "Thank you, Professor. May I leave now?"

"Yes, Mr Potter."

However, as he was about to cross the threshold–

"Wait!"

"What is it, Professor?" Harry's voice lanced out, carrying a clear tone of irritation.

"Veritaserum is a powerful drug," Merry said quickly. "It can make you speak truths you're not even consciously aware of, and it plays havoc with the mind. If your nightmares persist, tell me."

Harry nodded and left.

~~[q]~~

"Well, Merry?"

"He's certainly improving in his Occlumency, that's for sure." Merry gave a swift reply.

"Stop it, I know you're worried. This is the first time you've actually asked me to deliberately observe a lesson." Renko made to get up and pour herself some leftover tea.

"Did you see anything?"

"No, Merry, I didn't. In any case, I'm not even as good as the body language thing as you are–"

"I can sense it." Merry paced the room agitatedly. "I _know_ there's another presence, but there's also a dark undercurrent to his mood that makes picking things up harder, _and_ I'm not sure if the undercurrent is caused by his normal state or the foreign presence or both." She took another sip of tea. "And I'm not joking about the Occlumency either. By the end of the school year he'll be able to keep me out completely." _And even today I felt myself resorting to tweaking the border between my mind and his to see a complete memory of the duel._

"The end of the school year? That's not very fast, isn't it?" Renko replied.

"He doesn't have the potential to be a master, not like Akemi-san or Natsume-san did, but he learns quickly, and it'll be enough to suit his needs." Merry summed it up. "The question is: do I report this or not?"

"Report to who? The boy's an orphan. From what you tell me, his guardians were downright abusive, too." Renko scoffed.

"The headmaster?" Merry suggested. "He's rumoured to have a special relationship with the boy, after all."

"Yeah, no." Renko shot her down. "We're not going based on rumors. Speaking of which, Dumbledore wants a chat soon."

"What, why?"

"He alluded to Legilimency and discretion. Oh, and he wants to talk to _you_, specifically, but there's no way I'm not going to be there."

"I can guess why." Clearly, bringing up the possibility of having your mind read to the general populace of Hogwarts' students was something that the headmaster was not in favour of. Not to mention that she had outright told Harry that both the old man and Snape were Legilimencers.

_If Harry tells all his club members, and each member tells two other people, and those two people go on…well, I can see why Renko makes a big deal out of exponential growth. _

"So, what about Potter?"

"Much as I would like to do something, it's too risky. Bringing the presence to his conscious awareness might backfire. Removing it is also beyond my expertise. Maybe I'll ask Potter if there's any adult that he trusts, and go from there."

~~[q]~~

_Lastly, in the Slytherin Common Room:_

"Potter did _what?"_ Draco Malfoy's grating voice could be heard very clearly, and it irritated her.

Oh, there had been rumors since the end of the last year. Witnessing the Dark Lord's resurrection and all that. Fleeing from nearly the entire Inner Circle of Death Eaters.

That had been nothing more than luck. There was no way an inexperienced fourteen-year-old could have escaped otherwise.

Unless, of course, he wasn't entirely untrained, as some people had been whispering. Now, with this rumour…perhaps there was some hope, after all?

_Yeah, fuck that._

No way she would entrust their fates to some savior child.

She looked over at the table, where a discussion was beginning.

_Westcott and Malfoy and the rest of the purebloods are soft. They're brought up in luxury, too used to getting what they want. _

Getting your wand early and having a few lessons during the summer would put you ahead of any Muggleborn.

_But that wasn't the same as learning how to _fight.

She opened her palm, and a flame flickered to life.

No, nothing had changed. She was still stuck, between a jagged rock and a particularly hard place.

And as always, it was up to her to fight her way out.

* * *

_Thus ends the first proper arc of the story, which in my mind I call "Luna's arc". This is despite the fact that Luna doesn't really get much character development, but it is what it is._

_The next chapter will tentatively be titled "Awakening of the Earth Spirits". Place your bets on who our mysterious Slytherin is. _

_Until then._

_Review please!_


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